Til Death Do Us Part
by mmldt
Summary: AU Cupcake fic - rated M for Language and Sexual Content.
1. Chapter 1

_Just borrowing JE's characters, not making any money off of them, etc._

_I'm trying something different with this one - it isn't a bounty hunter story, and the cast of usual Plum characters will not appear. If you have problems with J/S being used in a different capacity, this one may not be for you. _

* * *

I'd been on the force a little over a year, and for the most part I felt competent in my abilities as a police officer. I'd mastered the art of writing a ticket, I'd spent plenty of time in a patrol car, and I'd become an expert in filing papers and filling out reports. The main difficulty I seemed to have, though, was dealing with Joe Morelli, a fellow officer and numero uno on my "_Hate with a Passion_" list.

He was an experienced cop, and he was undeniably the hottest guy I'd ever laid my eyes on. Unfortunately we had a history, and I'd previously allowed him to lay more than his eyes on me. I was sixteen and eager to lose my virginity. He was eighteen and eager to relieve me of it. I thought it was the start of something special, and he thought I was an easy fuck. He had his way with me on the floor of the Tastry Pastry, pulled up his pants as soon as he was finished, and never looked back. And though our paths had crossed off and on throughout the years, we'd mainly tried to keep our distance from one another. In his eyes I was a bitch, and as far as I was concerned, he was scum of the earth.

Our working relationship was kept to a bare minimum, as well, because he thought I was incompetent, and I thought he was full of himself. The few times we'd found ourselves having to work together, our conversations had been short and terse, and we'd said only what was necessary to get the job done.

I was sitting at my desk filling out paperwork one afternoon when Morelli walked by and dropped a stack of files in front of me, pausing long enough to say, "You need to have these finished by the time you leave today. No excuses."

I narrowed my eyes and resisted the urge to flip him the bird. My buddy, Eddie Gazarra, was sitting at his desk across from mine, and he rolled over and grabbed half the stack. "I'm in no hurry to get home this evening. I'll help you out."

"Thanks, Gazarra," I said gratefully, scooting the remaining stack off to the side.

"Hey Plum," someone called out, "you going out with us tonight?"

I looked up and saw Carl Costanza and Big Dog walking towards me. "I don't think so," I told them, pointing to the stack next to me. "Asshole Morelli, I mean Officer Morelli just dropped these off. I think I'm going to be here a while."

Carl started laughing. "What's up with the two of you? Can't you both just let bygones be bygones?"

I shook my head at him. "It's not my fault Morelli's a big baby. I don't think he'll ever be able to grow up and move past it." So maybe I couldn't either, but I found comfort in blaming him whenever I had the chance. A couple of years after our Tastry Pastry encounter I'd _accidentally_ hit him with my father's Buick, and he'd suffered a broken leg. I'd thought that was just desserts after what he'd done to me, but obviously he hadn't seen it that way.

"Have fun," Big Dog chuckled, and I gave him a fake laugh along with one of my patented eye rolls.

Around eight o'clock that evening I'd finally finished the last file, and I gathered them up so I could drop them off on Morelli's desk. I hoped and prayed he'd end up knocking them all over so he'd have to sort through them, but then I decided he'd just make me do it, so I quickly changed my mind. He had seniority, and I knew he enjoyed torturing me.

As I approached his office, I could hear the sound of his voice. He was on his cell, and judging from his end of the conversation, I could tell it was a woman. "Not tonight," he was saying. "This case I'm working on is making me insane, and I just can't deal with this shit right now." There was a short pause, and then he said, "You do what you want. I don't care anymore."

I stayed perfectly still, waiting for him to finish. Fortunately no one was around, so I didn't have to worry about being caught eavesdropping.

"Fine with me," he said, "I'll throw all your shit in a box and leave it on my front porch. Just try to get it before they collect the trash on Monday." He slapped his phone shut and tossed it on his desk. "Women," I heard him say in disgust, and then he let out a loud sigh.

I waited about thirty seconds, and then I stepped into the doorway, knocking on the open door. Morelli looked up and gave me a slight nod. "Here you go," I told him. "All finished."

"Just put them on the desk behind you," he said, his tone rough and the irritation in his voice obvious.

I did as he said and got out of there quickly. I went back to my desk, turned off my light, and grabbed my jacket. I walked out to my car, put the key in the ignition, and sat there. I debated whether or not I wanted to go home or make a quick stop by my parents' house for a late supper. Neither idea sounded appealing, though, so I decided instead to meet up with the gang at Brewsky's. A pitcher of beer and a few games of pool sounded like the perfect way to salvage what had been a long and shitty day.

I'd been there a little over an hour and was nursing my second beer when I noticed Morelli walking through the door. "Shit, Carl," I said. "You told me Morelli wasn't coming."

"That's what he said. But then so did you."

I made a face at him and grabbed a ten out of my purse. "Here put this towards the tab. I'm out of here."

"Come on Steph, don't be such a chicken shit. You telling me you can't even be in the same place that he is?"

"I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work. It has nothing to do with being a chicken shit, but everything to do with the fact that Morelli _is_ a shit. And I don't want to be anywhere near him."

"It's all that sexual tension between the two of you," Martin said.

Dana Martin was a fellow female officer who'd been on the force for about seven years. She was good at what she did, but she lacked ambition. She was content to patrol the streets day in and day out with no desire to move up the chain of command. I, however, wanted to advance, and I was determined to do it at all costs.

Morelli slung his jacket over the back of one of the chairs and walked over to the bar. He motioned for the bartender and moments later he rejoined us with a mug and a pitcher of beer.

I narrowed my eyes at Dana. "And you're dead wrong, Martin," I said. "Trust me. _Dead wrong_."

Morelli cut his eyes at me and took a swallow of his beer. "You leaving?" he asked.

I thought about it for a second and then tossed my jacket back down on my seat. Yes I hated Morelli, but what I hated more was for him to get the pleasure of running me off. "No, as a matter of fact, I'm just getting started. How about that game of pool, Costanza?" I said, turning my back on Morelli. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked off toward the tables, but I didn't care. I wasn't letting him get the best of me. Not tonight at least. I was tired of playing that game.

About an hour and three beers later, the pool balls were no longer going in the pockets, and I wasn't exactly seeing straight. "This game sucks," I slurred. "How about darts?" I asked Big Dog. But he shook his head, put his cue stick back in the rack on the wall, and grabbed his jacket. "I'm outta here," he said. "I got an early shift tomorrow."

"Wimp," I yelled out after him. I turned around and saw Carl sitting at the table with Morelli. "How about you, Costanza? You up for a game?"

"I don't think so," he said. "You're too drunk to be handling darts."

"I'm not drunk," I told him. "Tipsy maybe, but not drunk."

Morelli sat there silently, taking it all in. "I'll play you a game," he said. "Unless you're afraid of losing."

"Hah!" I yelled out. "Hah! Hah!" I repeated. "Aren't you funny?" Then I rolled my eyes at him. "In your dreams am I afraid of losing." I picked up a dart and then tripped over a chair that I could've sworn hadn't been in front of me a few minutes before. "Oops." I stood up and stared over at Morelli and Costanza. "Are we the only three left?" I asked, squinting at them as if I were going blind.

"Yeah, everyone else has a life," Costanza said, and Morelli laughed at that. "_I have a life_," I snapped.

"Are you playing or not?" Morelli asked, grabbing a dart and letting it fly. It hit the bullseye, and he turned to me and smiled. "I'd say '_not'_ after witnessing that."

"_Please_," I told him. "That's nothing." I held the dart out in front of me and took aim. Unfortunately it bounced off the wall and fell to the ground. "I meant to do that," I said, holding my head up high.

Morelli shook his head like I was too pathetic for words and turned to Carl. "Are you giving her a ride home? I think she needs to call it a night."

"No can do," he said. "I walked."

Morelli turned to look at me and shook his head again. I'd gone home to change clothes before I'd met up with everyone, and I was wearing a shirt that buttoned up the front. I'd become convinced, though, that I had misbuttoned it, and I was desperately trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong. No matter what I tried, though, nothing seemed to help.

Morelli tossed a twenty down on the table and then grabbed his jacket and mine. "Come on," he said, pulling my elbow. "I'll give you a ride."

"I don't think so," I told him. "I'd rather walk."

"Okay, you do that," he said, leading me out the door.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I muttered, jerking my arm away from him. "I don't need your help."

"You need some kind of help," he said.

"Fuck you," I told him. "You are such an arrogant son of a bitch."

"Yeah, well, you're a crazy bitch," he told me, and before I could stop myself I reached out to smack him. He was too fast, though, and he grabbed my arm and held it midair.

"Let go of my arm," I said, but he just stood there, not moving.

"Are you going to try to hit me again?" he asked.

"No," but I was, and he knew it. We stood there a minute or two, neither one of us willing to back down. Finally I let out a sigh and said, "I promise I won't hit you." _At least not tonight_, I thought.

He slowly let go of my arm and then pointed to his car. "Stop being ridiculous and get in. You can't walk home. It's cold out tonight."

I hated to admit it, but I knew he was right. It was cold, and I had no desire to walk. I slowly followed behind him and waited for him to unlock the door. He paused, said, "Hang on a second," and then jogged off back to the bar. When he came back he had a plastic bag which he handed to me. "If you have to throw up, do it in that."

He shut the door behind me and then climbed into the driver's seat. "You still live in the same apartment building?" he asked, and I nodded my head. "Yep," I replied, emphasizing the letter 'p' with a popping sound, and then we rode the rest of the way in silence. He came to a stop at the front and got out to open my door. I already had it opened, though, and I pushed past him. "Thank you for the ride home," I said, in a tone that I felt conveyed total professionalism, even if it did come out a bit warbled.

"No problem," was all that he said. He got back into his car and drove off, and I stood there cursing myself for having needed him for something. "Men suck," I said, and I managed to make it inside my apartment, where I immediately passed out on the couch.

* * *

A few weeks later, Chief Kelley called me into his office. "Officer Plum, there's something I need to discuss with you concerning a case the department's been working on."

I was immediately intrigued, and I took a seat in front of his desk. "Yes sir," I said, eagerly awaiting what he had to say.

"Just in the past few days we've had a breakthrough, and we're ready to take it to the next level. However, we need the help of a female officer to continue." I nodded my head and resisted the urge to hurry him along. What I'd heard so far sounded promising. I'd been waiting for the oppportunity to assist on a case, and I was, in fact, a female.

"It's an undercover assignment, and aside from the standard risks you face in any situation such as this, there's also the fact that you'll have to leave Trenton and be out of contact with family and friends until an arrest is made."

"Those don't sound like serious problems for me," I told him.

"That's what I like to hear," Kelley responded. "Before I can go into any further specifics, though, you'll need to undergo a psychological evaluation to determine if you can mentally handle an assignment such as this. As soon as I get the word from Dr. Bentram, then I'll be at liberty to give you more details."

"Sounds good," I told him. "How soon can I meet with her?"

"You're scheduled for a two o'clock appointment," he said. "And then I want you back in my office at four."

I stood up and shook his hand. "Thank you, Chief Kelley. I hope I'm given the clear for this. I really would like the opportunity to prove myself."

He nodded his head and said, "Four o'clock, Plum. Then we'll go from there."

I met with the psychologist, and she asked me a lot of mindless questions. Some were personal, some were borderline ridiculous, and some were obviously designed to see if I'd flip out and kill everyone in a stressful situation. I thought I'd handled myself well, and I eagerly watched the clock, waiting for four o'clock to roll around.

I sat down in Kelley's office and waited for him to return. He finally walked in about five minutes later, and Joe Morelli was with him. "_No_," Morelli said the moment he saw me. "There is no way in hell I'm working this case with her."

Chief Kelley shut the door and moved behind his desk, taking a seat. He finally looked up at us and frowned. "I don't think you have a choice, Morelli," he said, and then he looked at me. "She's been given the all-clear, and she's agreed to do it."

I sat there, stewing over what Morelli had said, and then I addressed Kelley. "That was before I knew he was on the case. Now I'm not so sure."

"Look, we don't have time for this childishness," he said. "You don't have to like one another, but you both have a responsibility to do your job and not let personal feelings get in the way."

Morelli shook his head and started to argue. "Have you told her what the assignment is?" he asked.

"No, we haven't gotten that far. That's why she's here now."

Morelli let out a sigh and turned to look at me. "Just say no, and we can find someone else."

I narrowed my eyes at him and turned back to Kelley. "I'll do it," I told him. "It doesn't matter what the assignment is. I'm a professional, I made a commitment, and I'm not backing down."

"Now that's what I like to hear," he said. Morelli stood there a moment, obviously at a loss for words, and then he turned and walked out.

As soon as he shut the door, I immediately inquired as to what it was I had just agreed to do. "You and Morelli are going undercover. You'll be posing as husband and wife for the next three to four months. Maybe longer, maybe less. It just depends on how everything goes down."

I sat there a moment, giving my brain a chance to process what he'd just said. "Could you run that by me again?" I finally asked. "Did you say something about posing as husband and wife?" I started shaking my head, but Kelley was already standing up and pointing me towards the door. "I have a 4:30 conference call. Tell Morelli to join you back here at 5:45, and we'll discuss the details further."

"Uh, I ... uh, Chief Kelley ..." but he wasn't having any of it. "5:45 Plum," and he pointed again towards the door.

"Yes sir," I mumbled, and I walked back to my desk, still reeling from the shock of what I'd just agreed to.


	2. Chapter 2

"Chief Kelley," I said, taking a seat in his office, "after giving this careful consideration, I'm not exactly sure I'm the best person for this assignment."

"You're the perfect person, Plum. We're trying to keep this one in-house, and you're the best shot we've got at making the situation believable. You and Morelli are a good match, and you two being a couple won't draw much suspicion."

"But that's the problem. We're not a good match. In fact, we may kill each other before it's over with."

Chief Kelley frowned. "Listen, I know you're interested in advancing, and I'm telling you right now, off the record, if you're successful on this assignment, there's a good chance things will happen for you. And fast."

And that was all it took. "Understood," I said. "I'll do my best."

Morelli walked in five minutes later, along with Dr. Bentram, and two men I didn't recognize. They shut the door, and the nightmare began.

"Morelli's been working on this case for the past few weeks, and we're finally starting to make progress. We'd been having a hard time determining how they were getting by undetected, especially here in Trenton, but we got our big break a few days ago. As it turns out, their main supply is coming out of Albany, which is where the two of you come in." He motioned towards the two men I didn't know and introduced us. "This is Albany's Chief of Police Harold Danforth and their Deputy Chief Michael Fleming. You'll be working closely with them while you're there."

We all shook hands, and Kelley continued. "The suspects are operating out of a residential neighborhood in Albany. We contemplated several ways to do this, but the most believable is to have the two of you move in and introduce yourselves as a newlywed couple."

I fought back the urge to vomit and tried to stay focused. "Morgan and Sanders will continue working the case here in Trenton, but I'm counting on the two of you to secure evidence for us there in Albany. We were fortunate enough to obtain a house across the street from the suspects, and one of the rooms will be set up with surveillance equipment. That's what you'll be responsible for, Plum."

He took a sip of his water and continued. "Morelli will be out in the field, working closely with the Albany P.D., but his cover will be that he's a computer programmer. That will help explain all the computer equipment you'll have in case a neighbor happens to see it."

I nodded my head while he was speaking and waited for him to finish. "What will my occupation be?" I asked.

Kelley looked at me like I hadn't been listening. "You'll be a housewife."

Morelli started laughing, and I shook my head in disbelief. "_What_? I don't want to be a housewife. Why does he get to be something, and I don't?" I knew I sounded childish, but I couldn't help it. This was majorly starting to suck, and I was _this close_ to refusing to go along with any of it.

"You won't_ really_ be a housewife, Plum. That'll be your cover. You'll actually be manning surveillance, which is what I just told you."

I let out a sigh and narrowed my eyes at Morelli. He was still grinning, and it was all I could do not to throw something at him.

"You'll spend all day tomorrow learning the specifics. Right now we're just briefing you on the situation and letting you know what to expect. We want to make certain that both of you have any and all resources at your disposal to help you stay focused throughout the duration of this assignment. That's why Dr. Bentram will be available to you whenever you need her. Undercover work is stressful in and of itself, and we strongly suggest you utilize whatever you need to make this a success. We can't afford any screw-ups."

"We've already created new identities for the two of you, so it's just a matter of getting you both prepared and sending you out. Morelli, you'll be briefed first thing in the morning, and then you'll meet with the movers in Philadelphia. We have an apartment in place containing what will be all of your new belongings, and as soon as it's loaded and on its way, you'll come back here. Plum, since this is your first assignment, you'll spend all day tomorrow in training, and then you'll both head out on Thursday."

The meeting continued for another half hour, but it seemed like an eternity. The next day was even worse, and at one point I entertained thoughts of quitting. My mother was always dropping hints that Macy's was hiring at the makeup counter, and I started contemplating that as a potential career change.

I talked with Dr. Bentram for hours. I studied every aspect of the case. I read mine and Morelli's profiles over and over. I filled out papers and signed documents. I was quizzed, I was prepped, I was measured, and I was scared shitless.

By the time I made it home that night I was mentally exhausted. I reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. I popped the cap and stood there, drinking it down within a matter of minutes. I let out a loud burp and then screamed. I took a deep breath and then went into the bathroom for a long hot shower.

I emerged feeling cleaner but not much better. I hadn't been able to wash away the nightmare that was now my life. When I woke up the next morning I would no longer be Stephanie. I'd be Sarah, a brainless suburban housewife. That was just too fucked up to think about, so I went and grabbed a second beer.

My rent, utilities, and all of my other bills were being paid until I returned, so I didn't have to worry about that. I'd dropped my pet hamster, Rex, off at my parents' house and explained the best I could that I'd be out-of-town on assignment for an unspecified amount of time. Dr. Bentram was our go-between, so I gave them her fake name and a contact number. My mother had handled it better than expected, so that helped me remain calm. I didn't stay for dinner, because I was afraid I'd start crying and refuse to leave, so I'd stopped and enjoyed an all-you-can-eat buffet before I returned home.

There was a checking account set up for Morelli and me to use, so all necessary expenses were to come out of that. Before he'd left for Philadelphia they'd pulled us aside and taken our measurements. I asked if I could help in selecting my new clothes, but the response had been a firm 'no.' Morelli had the worst of the deal, though, because they told him he had to wear glasses when we were around other people. I'd laughed about that until I saw him wearing them. The bastard looked even hotter, and it made me hate him even more.

They'd also measured our ring fingers, so I assumed I'd have a new accessory the next morning. I stared down at my finger and tried to imagine a wedding band on it. Even the thought of a fake one made my stomach turn.

I decided my brain had been put through enough, so I forced myself to go to bed. I set the alarm for six a.m. and tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep.

When I arrived at the station the next morning, I was immediately whisked away to a new location. Morelli was already there, and he was wearing a tux. I raised an eyebrow, and he shot me a look. "Pictures," he said by way of explanation, and I immediately discovered what he meant. We needed a wedding photo _just in case_, so I was forced to put on a hideous wedding gown that I would never ever wear. So maybe it was pretty in a prissy, totally-not-my-style kind of way, but that didn't matter. The fact that I had to put it on and stand next to Morelli was enough to make my skin crawl.

"Oh wait a minute," some woman said. "You have to be wearing these." She handed both of us a little baggie that contained what appeared to be our wedding rings. There was a gold band for Morelli and a diamond ring and gold band for me.

"A lot of men don't wear wedding rings," Morelli said, but the woman just laughed. "Good try, Morelli. Now put it on."

"Care to do the honors?" he asked me, turning the baggie upside down and unceremoniously dumping its contents into the palm of his hand.

"That's okay," I told him. "I'd prefer not to touch you."

The guy holding the camera started laughing. "Guess you're not the ladies man after all, are you Morelli?"

Morelli looked around. "Show me a lady, and we'll ask her."

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and thumped his head. "Just shut up," I said. "This damn dress is itching me, so let's hurry up and take the stupid picture."

I took a deep breath, slipped the rings on my finger, and fought hard to keep down the three Boston Cremes I'd shoved down my throat on the way to the station.

Morelli tried to pretend his didn't fit, but after I threatened to shoot him, he slipped it on. "Til death do us part and all that bullshit," he said, grinning at me.

"Did you have to pick the _'death'_ part?" I fussed. "I swear you're an idiot."

The guy with the camera took three shots of us standing together, and as soon as he was finished, I hurried off to change. "You can't put your regular clothes back on," someone was saying, and then a lady I'd never seen before shoved a bag in my arms. "You have to wear what's in here." I peeked into the bag and started shaking my head. "What are these? Capri pants? I don't wear capris. I need jeans. This is supposed to be moving day for us. Who doesn't wear jeans when they move?"

"Apparently _you_ don't," the lady said, and she walked off.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. It was just clothes. No big deal. I was probably going to have to deal with much worse than this before the case was over.

Morelli walked out in a Lacoste polo shirt and jeans. "Oh, you get jeans, and I don't?" I was pissed again and desperately searching for the woman who'd given me the bag.

He stared at my outfit and grinned. "This might not be so bad after all. The torture you have to endure should be good for a few laughs."

"_Where are your glasses_?" I asked him. "And do people still wear Izod's? You look ridiculous."

"Maybe so, but at least I have jeans." He turned and walked away, and I stuck my tongue out at him, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

We endured another hour or so of reviewing, and then we were each given two suitcases. Morelli got a new wallet, I got a purse, and then we were handed keys to our new cars. It was time to hit the road.

I followed behind Morelli's SUV in my brand new Beemer, thinking maybe this wasn't so bad after all. I could get used to driving a nice car. The more I drove, the more I relaxed and found myself actually excited at the prospect of what the house was going to look like.

About two hours after we'd left Trenton, I flashed my lights at Morelli because I had to pee. He drove for another ten minutes and then pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant outside of Newburgh, New York. I immediately ran to the bathroom, and when I came out, Morelli was talking to a waitress.

"I'll be right back with your order," she was saying as I walked up. She gave me a smile and kept going.

"Is she coming back to get mine or do I not get to eat?"

"I ordered for you, too."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How did you know what I wanted?"

"I didn't. I guessed."

I shook my head in disgust and flopped down in the other side of the booth. I sat there quietly for a few minutes, and then I remembered I wanted to yell at him. "Oh, by the way, next time I flash my lights at you, try to pull over immediately. Making me wait another ten minutes is just rude."

Morelli rolled his eyes at me and stretched out in the booth. "Why don't you take this opportunity while we're here to practice being nice?" he said. "You know, try to make it believable that we're actually married and in love with each other."

"Married couples fight a lot. That _is _believable."

"Not newlyweds."

"You're newlyweds?" the waitress asked. "How sweet. Congratulations!"

"Thanks," I said with a fake smile, then I helped myself to a plate from her tray. She could talk all she wanted. I was starving. I grabbed the pickle and crunched into it.

"Isn't she the cutest thing?" Morelli asked her. "You can see how she won me over."

I swirled a french fry in ketchup and stuffed it in my mouth. "Real funny," I said, but it came out sounding like "Ruff runny."

The waitress stared at me for a second and nodded her head slightly. "I'll leave extra napkins."

I took a sip of my Coke, and it spilled down my shirt.

"Would you like another napkin?" Morelli asked, passing one over. "Or perhaps a bib would work best. I see some plastic ones in those highchairs over there."

"Shut up," I mumbled between bites. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're obviously not in the mood to drive, either," he said. "Could you possibly go any slower?"

So maybe I was driving slow on purpose to bother him. "Just obeying the speed limit. I'm very conscientious," I said with a straight face.

"Well if you don't speed up a little, I'm leaving you behind."

"You can't do that," I said, enjoying the torture I was inflicting upon him. "We have to arrive at the house at the same time."

Morelli narrowed his eyes at me and took another bite of his burger. I saw the waitress walk by, so I motioned for her to come over. "Could I get an order of onion rings?" I asked. "And two more pickles?"

We spent the next ten minutes in absolute silence, and finally the waitress came back with the check. "Can I get you two lovebirds some dessert?" she asked.

I ignored the lovebirds comment and looked around on the table for a menu. "What do you have?" I finally asked, swallowing down the last of my cheeseburger.

"All sorts of pies, ice cream, sundaes, milkshakes. Pretty much the usuals."

"I'll take a chocolate shake and a slice of Key Lime pie."

The waitress nodded her head and turned to Morelli. "Nothing for me, but we'll take hers to go."

"The milkshake," I said, "but not the pie. I can't eat and drive." I shot Morelli a dirty look and curled up my top lip in disgust. "Geez, you need to chill out," I told him. "We've got plenty of time before the movers are scheduled to be there."

He let out a loud sigh and leaned back in the booth. "I swear you can pack away more than Big Dog does. You should enter one of those food eating competitions. You'd win hands down."

"I eat a lot when I'm nervous, okay?"

"In that case I hope you warned them to pack clothes for you in different sizes. You're going to be huge by the time this is over."

"Very funny," I said, rolling my eyes at him. "Just keep your comments to yourself."

I thought about what he'd said as I merged onto the highway behind him. No way was I going to get fat in front of Morelli. I'd rather be shot by the bad guys than let that happen. "Well then stop eating so much," I fussed at myself.

I set the cruise control at 60 mph and turned up the music. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and sang along. "Oh yeah," I said with a laugh, watching as cars were zooming past us. "Torturing Morelli is going to be a whole lot of fun." I grabbed a candy bar off the passenger's seat and tore off the wrapper. "I'll eat less tomorrow," I said, watching as Morelli was forced to apply the brakes so I could catch up to him. I saw him shaking his head, and I knew he was cursing. _Hehe_, I thought. _A whole lot of fun indeed_.


	3. Chapter 3

I pulled up in the driveway beside Morelli and walked around to the trunk to retrieve my suitcases. He already had his in hand and was making his way to the front door.

"_This house is 250,000 dollars_?" It was cute in a _Leave it to Beaver_ kind of way, but it certainly wasn't what I imagined it was going to be.

"What does it matter?" Morelli asked. "It's not like we're going to be living here forever." He pushed the door open and tossed his suitcases inside, turning around to take mine. "I've definitely stayed in worst places."

"There's a shocker," I said sarcastically. I stepped inside and looked around. There was a living room, dining room, and kitchen downstairs, along with a laundry room and a half-bath. Obviously the bedrooms were upstairs, so I rejoined Morelli in the living room and walked over to the stairs. "I'm going to pick out my bedroom."

He'd been at the window scoping out the house across the street, but when I said that, he stepped forward and looked at me. "_Oh no you don't_. You're planning to take the master bedroom."

"Yeah? So? I'm a girl. I get the bigger room."

"_You're a girl_? _You get the bigger room_? Bullshit," he said, and then he started for the stairs.

"Oh no you don't," I yelled, trying to push past him. I made it up a few steps when Morelli pulled me back. I slapped at him, but he moved past me, so I grabbed onto his legs, trying my best to keep him from moving. We did this for a while, and finally I managed to take the lead and run up without him stopping me. I took a left and ran into the first room I saw. "_Shit_," I yelled, but Morelli was already down the hall, standing in the master bedroom, laughing.

"You lose," he said. "Guess you get the smaller room."

"You're an asshole," I yelled. "Give me this room."

"No. I have to be trapped here in this godforsaken city with you, of all people. I think I deserve the better room."

"_You? Trapped with me_? More like the other way around." I sat down on the floor and made myself comfortable. "I'm not leaving this room."

Morelli sat down across from me. "The mover's are on the way. One of us has to let them in."

"Guess'll it be you."

"Guess you won't have a bed to sleep in tonight."

"You suck!" I yelled. "Take the fucking room! I don't care."

"Thank you," he said.

"Arrgh! I hate you!" I stomped off down the stairs and grabbed one of my suitcases. "I can't believe this," I mumbled to myself. "_I'm a professional. I made a commitment,"_ I said, mimicking the comments I'd made to Chief Kelley just a couple of days before. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

Morelli had come downstairs and was watching me, obviously enjoying my mini meltdown. "You were thinking how lucky you were to spend the next three months of your life pretending to be married to me."

"Oh please!" I yelled. "Thank God there's a bathroom down here, because I think I need to throw up now!"

The doorbell rang, and I looked out and saw a moving van parked on the street. I glared at Morelli and then walked to the front door and threw it open.

"Mrs. Roberts?" a huge, bulky guy holding a clipboard asked.

I took a breath, smoothed out my shirt, and planted a smile on my face. "Yes, that's me. Mrs. Roberts. Luckiest woman in the world."

I pretty much stayed out of the way while the movers did their thing. Morelli helped direct, while I snacked on a bag of chips I'd picked up when we'd stopped for gas. I watched things coming in, making a mental note of everything I saw.

"This is the last of it," one of the guys said. "Where should we put this?" he called out to Morelli, who was standing at the top of the stairs.

"Bring it up here," he told them, pointing to the bedroom I'd gone in earlier. "This room'll be fine."

"Alright," the guy said, and he started for the stairs.

"Wait a minute," I called out. "Where's the other mattress set? The other bed?"

"There is no other bed," he said. "That's everything."

"No, there should be another bed. We need one for guests."

"Lady, there's not another bed. We loaded this truck. There was only one bed in your apartment in Philly."

"Oh," I said, trying to play embarrassed. "I remember now. We gave our spare bed to a neighbor."

The guy shook his head at me and continued on up the stairs.

I sat down on the couch, fuming. I couldn't wait for the movers to leave so I could let Morelli have it.

Finally Mr. Bulky Guy shoved the clipboard in my face and told me to sign. I started to sign Stephanie Plum, but thankfully I remembered and wrote my new name instead.

I gave them a tip, shut the door behind them, and stomped up the stairs. "What the fuck?!" I yelled at Morelli. "There's only one bed."

He looked at me like he couldn't care less. "You did this on purpose!" I yelled at him.

"What are you talking about? I did what on purpose?"

"We can't have another bed because we have to have one room for all the surveillance crap, and then the other room has to be a home gym." I gritted my teeth and fought back the urge to smack him. "What did you do? Whine that you need to work out everyday, so they gave you all of this to shut you up? Well take it all back downstairs and set it up in the garage. We're getting a bed for this room."

Morelli shook his head and kept on assembling some stupid piece of exercise equipment. "I didn't have anything to do with this, but I'm glad we have it. Exercise is a great stress reducer, and with the way you've been eating, I strongly suggest you take advantage of this." He tightened a bolt and looked up at me. "And no, we can't put all of this in the garage. If you'd paid attention, you'd remember they said we have to park our cars in there."

"Arrrgh! I hate you!" I yelled. "You're sleeping on the couch." I stomped out of the room and headed down the stairs, and Morelli was immediately behind me.

"I'm not sleeping on the couch for three months. _No way_. You're just going to have to grow up and handle this like a mature adult."

The doorbell rang, and Morelli and I froze. He pulled his gun from his belt and motioned for me to get the door.

I smoothed out my shirt again, tucked my hair behind my ear, and looked out the peephole. "You can put the gun away," I whispered. "I think we're being welcomed to the neighborhood."

I opened the door and found a young Martha Stewart on our doorstep. She was wearing tan colored capri's, exactly like mine, and had a ribbon headband in her hair. The sight of her made me realize what I looked like, and I wanted to cry.

She extended her hand and flashed me a blinding smile. "Hi! I'm Elisabeth Harrington. I live in the house next door. Welcome to the neighborhood," she squealed.

"Oh, yay!" I said, trying to sound like a happy cheerleader without a brain. I thought I might've gone overboard on that, so I tried to tone it down. "Thank you so much," I said, taking the plate of cookies from her hand. "This is so nice."

"What's _your_ name?" she asked, still smiling.

"Oh goodness," I said, laughing like an airhead. "Forgive my manners. The mover's just left, and I'm afraid my brain's just rattling around in here."

"That's okay," she said sympathetically. "I understand completely. When we first moved in, it took me a whole day to get everything organized. I thought I'd never get finished."

"A whole day, huh? Wow," I pushed back the urge to be sick at her perfectness and smiled. "My name's Sarah. Sarah Roberts." Then I turned and motioned towards Morelli. "And this is my husband, John."

"John and Sarah. What nice names," she said.

I smiled at that and shrugged my shoulders. "We didn't pick them," and Morelli shot me a look. "You know, our parents did that."

Elisabeth giggled. "I'm so glad you two have moved in. The last people that lived here weren't nearly as friendly. They never wanted to socialize. I'd ring the bell, and they wouldn't answer. I knew they were home, though."

"People like to socialize here?" I asked curiously.

"Oh do we ever! Saturday is mow the lawn day, and if the weather's nice, we like to have a cookout. Then Sunday's are reserved for church and picnics. We have block parties and all sorts of fun events."

"Oh God," I said, swallowing hard. Then I laughed. "I mean, Oh God what fun. This place sounds ... _perfect_." Then I thought for a second, trying to choose my words carefully. "Are you talking about just you and your husband or everybody on the street?" Morelli narrowed his eyes at me, as if to warn me to watch my mouth.

"Oh, there are several families on our street that get involved, but I organize almost everything."

"Are you a party planner?" I asked.

"Oh no, I'm a homemaker."

"What a coincidence," Morelli said. "So is Sarah."

"_Really_?! Oh my gosh, that is amazing. All the other women I know around here have careers. How exciting you'll be home every day, too. We're going to have so much fun."

I gave her a faint smile and stood there imagining my hands wrapped around Morelli's neck.

"Well I won't keep you," she said. "But we must get together soon. I want to get to know all about you." She started to leave, but then she turned back. "Oh, and you can call me Bitsy. My husband is Brett." She peeked her head inside and said, "John, you'll have to meet him later. Do you golf?"

"Of course," he said, flashing her a smile. "Who doesn't?"

"Oh, I predict you two will be best friends. I'm just so excited," she squealed. "Bye-bye now."

"Bye-bye," I said with a wave and a smile. I shut the door and narrowed my eyes at Morelli. "What the hell?" I asked him. "How am I supposed to run surveillance all day if you tell her stuff like that?"

But Morelli just laughed. "You'll handle it. _You're a professional_. Remember?"

I stared at the box in front of me and kicked it. "This just gets worse and worse. I'm trapped in suburbia hell. With you." I kicked the box again and then sat down on top of it, watching as Morelli set up the television in the entertainment center. "You really golf?" I asked him.

"Yeah, not that often, but enough so that I shouldn't stand out here." He glanced over at the plate of cookies and grinned. "But I don't think the same can be said for you."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"_Do you cook_? _Do you clean_?"

"No, I shoot at things."

Morelli laughed. "You were the one who wanted this assignment." He plugged in the television and clicked it on. "I suggest you go unpack the boxes in the kitchen. Maybe there'll be a cookbook or two in there that you can use."

I rolled my eyes at him and left the room. _Dickhead,_ I thought_._ "I'll use a cookbook alright," I mumbled. "Use it to smack you upside your head."

There didn't appear to be anyone to watch at the house across the street, so Morelli went around assembling things, and I started unpacking boxes. Finally about six-thirty he left to find a grocery store, and I continued working. It felt strange to unpack things that were supposed to be ours but really weren't. Most of it was generic stuff like linens, towels, dishes, and books, and I figured all of these boxes had been sitting in a warehouse somewhere before they were transported to the apartment in Pennsylvania.

I finally heard Morelli coming through the door, and he called out for help. I kept unwrapping dishes, pretending not to hear him.

He walked into the room and slammed some bags down on the counter. "I know you heard me," he said.

"Oh, you're back."

I followed behind him and helped him bring in the remaining bags. Brett and Bitsy were outside watering their lawn. "Howdy neighbors," they called out, and Morelli walked over to shake Brett's hand. I waved at them and pointed to the house. "I have a casserole in the oven I need to check on."

"Yum," I heard Bitsy saying as I disappeared inside.

A few minutes later Morelli was back in the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind, but I invited Bitsy and Brett to join us for dinner. They seemed really excited at the thought of a casserole."

I whipped myself around and glared at Morelli. "_You didn't_?"

"_Why not_? It's just the two of us. We couldn't possibly eat an entire casserole by ourselves. Or at least _I_ couldn't."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he started laughing. "For starters, I couldn't eat an entire casserole by myself either. And second, there is no fucking casserole."

"No shit," Morelli said. "Of course I didn't invite them, but I'm not so sure you couldn't eat a whole one by yourself. Remember, I saw you at lunch."

I picked up a cookbook on the counter beside me and threw it at him. He ducked, and it hit the wall instead.

He shook his head at me and laughed. "Lousy shot with a gun _and a book_."

I decided to ignore him and went back to unpacking the bags. "What is all this crap?" I finally asked. "Did you get anything decent?"

He gave me a dirty look and kept pulling out groceries. I kept right on bitching, and finally he slammed a jar of mayonnaise down on the counter, and I was surprised it didn't shatter into a million pieces. "I told you to come with me, but you didn't want to."

"If I'd known you were incapable of buying food that normal people eat then I would have."

"Well I guess you know for next time, huh?"

I dropped what was in my hands and stomped out of the room. I plopped down on the couch and laid my head back, praying that the case would miraculously be solved within the next five minutes. Morelli came out with a bag of chips, a sub sandwich from the deli, and a beer and sat down on the other side of the couch. He snatched up the remote and turned on the television.

"Who says you get the remote?"

He slid a sideways glance at me and kept eating. "I get the remote because I hooked everything up."

"_Oh? Is that how it works_? Well then I get the bed because I put the sheets on."

"You're a real pain in the ass," he said.

"So are you." I crossed my arms over my chest and sat there, silently stewing over the predicament I'd found myself in. I wanted to eat, but I was determined not to give in and have anything that Morelli had bought. I went into the kitchen and pulled out Bitsy's plate of cookies. I rinsed a glass and poured some water from the sink. I sat down at the kitchen table and ate six cookies. I walked to the refrigerator and quietly opened it, peering inside. I spied a tub of macaroni and cheese from the deli, and I pulled it out. It was still warm, so I found a spoon and walked into the living room.

"Can I have some of this?" I asked.

Morelli looked over at me and then turned back to the television. "You can have whatever you want. I don't care. I didn't spend _my_ money."

I walked back into the kitchen and stood at the island, not moving until the mac and cheese was gone. Then I went upstairs to finish unpacking.

Morelli walked into the room as I was pulling out clothes and complaining. "Look at this shit," I yelled. "I don't dress like this." The suitcase was filled with all sorts of clothes that looked like I'd robbed a Neiman Marcus store. "Where are the jeans? Where are the tank tops? There aren't any fucking t-shirts!" I reached in and pulled out a zippered bag. "Oh dear God," I cried. "I refuse to wear these," I said, holding up a strand of pearls. "They've gone too far."

Morelli peered inside. "Is that lingerie in there?"

"Don't get any ideas," I snapped at him. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing any of that around you."

"Trust me," he said, "I don't want you to." Then he went in the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he finished in there, he came back in the room and stared me down. "I'm tired, and I'm _not_ sleeping on the couch."

"Well you're not sleeping in the bed with me."

"More like you're not sleeping in the bed _with me_."

I shook my head at him. "You _have_ to give me the bed. I'm a girl."

"Don't even go there again. You're one of the first to yell equality between men and women when it suits your purpose, so spare me."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I knew he was right. "Fine, I'll sleep on the couch. _But just for tonight_. We have to figure something out tomorrow. I can't live like this."

I grabbed my toothbrush and some toothpaste and headed for the door. Morelli tossed me a pillow and a blanket and then starting peeling off his shirt. I quickly got out of there before he took anything else off. No matter how much I hated him, I knew I'd still be tempted to look, and there was no way I was boosting his ego. He didn't deserve it.

"_Jerk_," I said to myself, making my way down the stairs. I looked out the window, and the house across the street was still dark. I put my gun on the coffee table and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I stared at the couch for a few seconds and cursed again. I turned out the lights, fluffed up my pillow, and made myself comfortable. The problem was, though, it was _far_ from comfortable. Morelli had left a trail of crumbs everywhere, so I was forced to get up and wipe those away. I laid down again, but the cushions sagged, and I couldn't find a position that felt just right. I shifted around, and I fell on the floor, knocking my head into the coffee table. "Dammit!" I yelled out. I got back up and tried again. I finally fell asleep about an hour and a half later only to be rudely awakened about two o'clock in the morning when my head came into contact once again with the coffee table.

"I've had enough of this," I said, stomping off up the stairs. I marched into the bedroom, tossed my pillow onto the bed, and crawled in under the covers. I was so exhausted I didn't give a shit who it was beside me.

I woke up the next morning and my arm was draped across Morelli's bare chest. It took me a few seconds to become oriented, and then I remembered where I was, and that it was, in fact, reality and not a really bad nightmare.

I took a bit of time to appreciate the view beside me and then rolled out of bed before Morelli woke up and caught me. I figured I had enough time to grab a shower and use up all of the hot water. I was determined to make it a good day. For me at least anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Later that morning the techs came by, posing as the cable guys, and set up all of the equipment in the second bedroom. They ran through how everything worked one more time, and then they left. There was backup equipment at the Albany police station, so I didn't have to monitor constantly, but it was still important that I stayed aware of the comings and goings across the street.

Morelli came downstairs dressed in another polo shirt, but instead of jeans he was wearing navy slacks. He grabbed his gun, and all I could think was how damn sexy he looked. I quickly turned away, trying my best not to stare at him, and when I turned back around his gun was conspicuously hidden. "You're sure you understand what to do?" he asked for the umpteenth time.

"_Yes_! Would you go away?"

He let out a sigh and slammed the door shut behind him. I grabbed a second cup of coffee and headed upstairs. I caught myself nodding off about three hours later and decided it was time for lunch.

I went to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, and just as I finished eating, the doorbell rang.

"Hi Bitsy," I said, "Come on in."

She smiled at me and stared at my robe for a second. "You must've stayed up late unpacking." We both looked around at all the boxes, and I smiled sheepishly. "Mmm-hmm. I mostly worked upstairs, though."

"I saw John leave earlier. Was he going to work?"

"Yes, today's his first day."

"How exciting," she said. "What are you doing for him when he gets home?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, totally clueless as to what I was supposed to say.

"_First day at a brand new job?_! You have to give him something!" She kept grinning, and I smiled at her.

"Um," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I'm not good at this marriage stuff. We're newlyweds."

"Well I'll help you!" She squeezed my arm lightly, and I thought for a second she was going to jump up and down.

"That's so sweet," I told her, "but it's really not necessary. John doesn't expect anything. He's a practical kind of guy."

"That's what'll make it all the more special. He won't be expecting it, so you can totally wow him."

"_Wow him_, huh?" I thought of all the possible ways I could wow Morelli, but I quickly determined all of my ideas would result in him going to the emergency room. "I have no clue what you could be thinking," I told her, "but if you'd like to give it some thought and send me an email later, that'd be great. I'll give you my address."

"Send you an email," she repeated. "You're so funny. Why don't you go get dressed, and then we can plan." She gave me a smile that included a nose crinkle, and I fought back the urge to punch her face.

"Bitsy, I appreciate this so much, but there's something I just have to get done before four o'clock." She started to frown, and I tried to think fast. "But I tell you what. I'd love to get together with you some time tomorrow. And in the meantime, if you come up with any ideas for John, you can let me know later this afternoon. Does that sound okay?" I asked, giving her my sweetest smile.

"Okay, I'll put my thinking cap on, and come up with something."

"Wonderful," I said in my most sincere-sounding Bitsy tone, and then I walked to the front door. I opened it up and stared out at the house across the street. "That's a nice house," I said, pointing to it. "Do you know the people that live there?"

She frowned when I asked her that and shook her head. "Not really. I took them cookies when they moved in, but I haven't seen or talked to them since. I leave them notices for our block parties all the time, but they never come."

"What a shame," I said.

"My thoughts exactly. It drives me nuts when I can't get everyone to participate," she said.

"Well maybe they're not home very often."

"They come and go a lot," she said. "And they seem to have a lot of friends. But at least they're quiet. And they keep their yard clean."

"Well that's something to be said for them," I said. "Okay, then," I told her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll be back in touch before then. Remember about John?"

"Huh? What about John?"

"You're hilarious," she laughed. "I'm so glad you moved here."

I waved goodbye and shut the door.

Morelli walked in that evening to find me sitting on the couch, eating ice cream out of the carton, and still wearing my robe. There was a bouquet of balloons shoved in the corner, and a banner stretched across the archway in the foyer that read "Congratulations on Your 1st Day!"

He raised an eyebrow and stared at the ice cream. "Did you print that banner?" he asked.

"No way," I said, glancing over at him. "This is all compliments of Bitsy. She thought I should do something to '_wow_' you on your first day of work." I took another bite of ice cream and changed the channel. "I certainly wouldn't have come up with anything this nice." I took another bite of ice cream and spoke at the same time I was trying to swallow it down. "There's a cake in the kitchen, but I already ate the piece that had the word '_day' _on it. I guess you can pick some other first to be congratulated on."

He stared at me in my robe and gave me a look that said "_you're disgusting_."

"_What_?" I asked him. "Do you have a problem?"

He shook his head. "You're going to make some poor unsuspecting man a really shitty wife."

"Like you're a prize," I told him. "You're going to drive some poor unsuspecting woman to drink."

I turned back to the television and tried my best to ignore him. I heard him clattering around in the kitchen, and a few minutes later he came and sat down on the couch. He took a bite of his sandwich and then ate some chips. He started crunching really loud, right in my ear, and then he picked up his beer and took a huge gulp. He crunched some more chips and smacked on his sandwich.

"Just take the damn remote," I yelled, tossing it at him. "It's not worth it." He started laughing and immediately began flipping through the channels. "You're so annoying," I said, then I stomped off up the stairs.

I checked in at the house across the street, but there still wasn't any activity to report. I grabbed one of the books I had unpacked the night before and settled in for the night. I was asleep within five minutes, and I barely heard Morelli when he came to bed. I remembered him pushing me over, and when I woke up the next morning, there were two pillows shoved between us. I yawned and stretched and gave him the evil eye. It would have been okay if I had built the barricade, but it was unacceptable that he had done it.

"_A pillow barricade_? You're such a loser."

"_What_? I thought I was being considerate. I didn't want you to wake up in the middle of the night and have to fight off any secret temptations that you're having."

"You make me sick," I said, throwing my pillow at him, but he just laughed and rolled over. I got a nice view of his backside when he got out of bed, and I hated myself for thinking he was right. I would've been fighting off some serious temptations if I'd seen that the night before.

I let out a sigh and grabbed my robe off the floor. I'd have to wait under he was finished in the bathroom to take my shower. But the joke was on him if he was planning to get me back by using up all of the hot water. Little did he know it was a cold shower I was in desperate need of that morning.

* * *

A week had passed, and Morelli was the only one who'd done any real work. There'd been several leads for them to work on, but absolutely nothing going on across the street. I'd been reduced to hanging out with Bitsy and learning more than I ever wanted to know about daytime soap operas. Apparently they were her guilty pleasure, and she'd made me promise several times that I wouldn't tell anyone.

It was Saturday morning, and once again there wasn't a single bad guy for me to watch. I was starting to think the whole case was a big joke, concocted by someone who hated me and wanted to drive me insane.

Instead of dreaming up further conspiracy theories, though, I took advantage of the freedom I had and went back to sleep. When I woke up two hours later, I could hear Morelli working out in the other bedroom. A part of me was tempted to spy on him, but at the same time, I didn't want to see any of the exercise equipment and suffer any unnecessary guilt.

I rambled downstairs and poured a cup of coffee. I stood there thinking that if I was forced to say something positive about living with Morelli, I could at least tell everyone he knew how to work a coffee maker.

I made my way to the couch and plopped myself down. There was nothing on the television that interested me, so I picked up the book I'd been trying to start over the past week, determined to get through the first chapter. I'd only managed to make it to page three, however, when I was rudely interrupted.

"_What the hell_?" Morelli yelled. He held up one of his shirts so that I could see it, waving it around like a maniac. "Did you not notice this?!"

I glanced up at the shirt and flashed my patented "_who gives a shit_?" look. I caught myself doing a double take, though, because he looked so damned hot, and I was, after all, still human. He was sweaty from his workout and shirtless. I stared at the muscles in his arms, and then his abs, and I quickly looked back down at my book.

"Notice what?" I said half-heartedly, trying to wipe the image of his incredibly hot body out of my mind.

"Half of my clothes are dyed different colors! Do you not know how to do the damn laundry? Can you not separate whites from darks?" He threw the shirt across the room and stared down at me, as if I should care.

I narrowed my eyes and considered throwing my book at him. Forget his abs and the tempting bulge in his shorts. He was still a jerk. "You should be grateful I do your fucking laundry," I yelled back at him.

"Well I'm not! Now I have to go shopping for more shirts. I hate shopping!" he yelled back.

"Poor baby," I said. "You have it so fucking hard, don't you?"

"Oh get over it," he yelled. "I'm so tired of hearing you bitch and moan about every little thing."

I started to say something when the doorbell rang. "Put your glasses on, and answer it," I ordered. "I don't want to talk to anybody."

Morelli walked to the front door and threw it open. "Hi Bitsy. Yes, Sarah's right here."

I gritted my teeth and stood up. "Hi," I called out, "What brings you by?" I was attempting cheerful but failing miserably. I walked over to them and tried my best to look happy.

"I want to invite you and John over for brunch. _I just love brunch_. Don't you?"

"_It's the best_," I said in a tone that mimicked hers. "But John's on a diet, so he probably doesn't want to be tempted."

"_You're on a diet_?" Bitsy asked, obviously puzzled. As perfect as Bitsy was, even she wasn't immune to all the hotness standing in front of her. I'd caught the look she'd given him when she'd stepped inside.

"Yes, don't you see?" I asked, pointing at him. "That's the start of love handles right there."

"Yeah," Morelli said. "It's all those casseroles Sarah likes to cook. In fact, she's making one for supper tonight." Then he looked at me and smiled. "Honey, why don't we invite Bitsy and Brett to join us?" He smiled at Bitsy. "That'll mean less for me to be tempted with."

"I'd love that!" she exclaimed, "You two are just wonderful. So how about brunch?"

"What's another pound or two?" Morelli asked, hugging me tightly against him. "Just more for me to love. Right, Sarah?"

I laughed a fake laugh and smiled at Bitsy. "Just give us a few minutes to freshen up, and we'll be right over."

By the time Bitsy finally shut her mouth, and I'd closed the door, Morelli was already up the stairs. "You better run," I yelled up at him.

I went into the kitchen and found a cookbook, desperately searching for a casserole recipe. I was going to make one if it was the last thing I did. Morelli might've thought he was torturing me, but he forgot one very important detail. He was going to have to eat it and pretend to like it, no matter how bad it tasted.

"Take that," I said to myself, dogearring the page that I needed. "I guarantee it'll be the last time you invite them over for supper."

* * *

Morelli took a chair so that he could keep watch across the street, and I sat down between Bitsy and Brett.

Bitsy poured out four glasses of orange juice and sat down again. "I've been meaning to ask you something, so I'll do it now while it's fresh on my mind. Are you two planning on having children?"

Morelli laughed at that one, and I shot him a dirty look. "Sorry," he said, planting a serious look on his face. "That topic is actually a bit painful, so sometimes it helps to laugh."

Bitsy looked puzzled. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No, it's okay. It's nothing serious. Sarah's working on it."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and I could see he was fighting hard to keep a straight face. He held up his hand like he was taking a drink and said, "We don't like to talk about it."

"Hmm," I said with a slight laugh and a fake smile. "You're so considerate." Then I turned to Bitsy. "He's right, I am working on it. But there's no need to be in a hurry. After all, with John's problem, well, let's just say it's impossible for me to get pregnant now anyway."

Morelli choked on his drink and then shot me a look. "_My problem_?" he said. "Sweetheart ..."

"It's okay, John. We're among friends. No need to be embarrassed." I smiled at him sweetly and picked up my glass. "He works so hard. It's most likely stress. _At least I keep hoping_."

"Oh goodness, stress can wreak havoc on a person's body," Bitsy said. "But you do know there's medication that will help with that particular problem, don't you? You know those commercials we see all the time, Brett?"

Brett looked like he wanted to run far away from all of us. "Yes, we see them a lot. Mostly when my mother's here, and we're watching television with her."

Morelli's face was turning red, and I was trying my best not to laugh.

"Those couples always look so happy in them. Perhaps you could try that," Bitsy told us.

"Maybe," I said. "But I guess truth be told it's not really a top priority for me. I get plenty of pleasure from housework and shopping." Bitsy nodded her head like she agreed completely, and I shot a quick glance at Brett.

"Don't forget drinking, dear," Morelli said. "You get most of your pleasure from that."

I ran my hand along the side of my head and flipped Morelli the bird at the same time.

"I enjoy a glass of wine every evening myself," Bitsy volunteered, obviously trying to make me feel better. "It helps me unwind after a long day."

"If only it were just wine," Morelli lamented, and I reached over for a muffin and knocked his orange juice glass into his lap.

"Oh my goodness. I'm such a klutz." I smiled at Morelli and said in my most innocent voice, "I'm so sorry, darling. But I've got a load of laundry ready and waiting, so I'll throw those shorts in with it as soon as we get home."

Bitsy was passing him napkins, and Morelli was trying his best to keep his composure. "Don't worry about it, dear," he said. I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten and release, and then he gave me a fake smile. "At least this time I don't smell like a brewery."

* * *

We walked into the house, shut the door, and I immediately punched his arm. "_What the hell was that_?! 'Sarah's working on it. We don't like to talk about it.' There's nothing in my profile that says I'm an alcoholic!"

"What about you? _I'm impotent_? You deserve to be worse than an alcoholic. I should've told them that you're a whore, and I can't get you pregnant because it'd ruin your business."

"Yeah, well, they'd probably understand it, since they think you can't get it up."

"That's funny. _Real funny_. Go start on your fucking casserole. I'm sure it's going to take you all day."

He stormed off up the stairs, and I stomped off into the kitchen. I was slamming around dishes, and I could hear him working out on the elliptical.

By the time I'd put the casserole together, the kitchen looked like a war zone, but at least I was finished. I had no idea if it was even edible, and I did a silent prayer that I wouldn't poison Bitsy and Brett. I tossed the casserole into the oven and walked out to the living room. I stared out the window and then went upstairs to check out all of the surveillance equipment.

Morelli was in there, fiddling with things, and I glared at him. "What are you doing?" I asked him.

"What does it look like?" he replied. I shook my head in disgust and left. I was tired of fighting and needed a break. I locked the bedroom door, laid down on the bed, and punched my pillow. I was trying my best to be strong, but I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. I covered my face with Morelli's pillow and fought as hard as I could, but I finally cracked. I turned on my side and let the tears fall, quietly crying myself to sleep.

Morelli knocked on the door about three hours later, reminding me that Bitsy and Brett would be over within the hour. I didn't answer, but I made plenty of noise so he would know I was awake.

I finally emerged, wearing a knee length skirt with a matching blouse. I'd styled my hair and put on earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet. I did my makeup perfectly and spritzed on the perfume. My toenails were painted to match my fingernails, and I slipped on a pair of sandals, that even I had to admit I liked. I wondered if I was allowed to keep anything when the assignment was over. If so, they were definitely the one thing I was asking for.

I walked down the stairs, and Morelli looked over at me. I saw him give me a second glance, but I kept walking into the kitchen. I opened the oven to check the casserole, and I caught myself giving _it_ a second glance.

"What the ..." I started to say. I reached in and touched the rack. It was cold. I'd forgotten to turn on the oven. "_Shit_!" I muttered. "Now what?" I said to myself.

I walked out to the living room and stared down at Morelli. "There's no casserole."

"You burned it, huh?"

"_No_," I snapped, "of course I didn't burn it. You would've smelled it if I had."

"Then what?" he asked.

I hesitated and stared down at the floor. Having to admit things to Morelli was one of the worst things in the world. "I kind of forgot to cook it," I said quietly.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you?" He was fighting back a smile, and I wanted to punch him.

"You heard me!" I said.

He started laughing, and I reached out to hit him. I'd had all I could take, and I figured a little slap would do him some good. He grabbed my arm to stop me, but instead of holding it up like he did last time, he pulled me to him. I fell against him, and I started to yell at him when he kissed me. My first instinct should've been to push him away, but I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. It was hard to do that, after all, when his tongue was in my mouth.

The house was quiet, except for the sounds that our mouths were making. I was kissing him with such an intensity that it surprised me. I hated Morelli. He was a jerk. He hated me. I was mean to him. We weren't supposed to be doing this. But damn, it felt so good. Morelli was a great kisser. He hadn't given much more than five minutes behind the counter in the Tastry Pastry, so I didn't really know what he was like in bed, but I imagined he'd improved over the years.

He'd worked his hand up underneath my bra, and he was gently squeezing my nipple. I was rubbing my hand over his crotch, trying to gauge how large he actually was. The only memory I had was that he was "_big_," but I wanted more than that to go on. I wanted to see it again so I'd know for sure. A taste of it wouldn't hurt either.

I was seconds away from taking off my top and suggesting we go upstairs when the doorbell rang. We froze, and then I slid off of his lap. I adjusted my bra and smoothed out my clothes. Morelli ran his hand through his hair and grabbed his glasses.

The doorbell rang again, and I stared at him. "If they see you like that, they'll know you solved your problem."

He looked down and then stood up. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"What about the casserole?"

Morelli stood there, thinking. "I'll go make subs."

"Thank you," I said softly, and he smiled. "No problem."

* * *

I waved goodbye to Bitsy and Brett and walked back into the dining room. Morelli was already clearing away the dishes, so I grabbed the few that were left. I followed him into the kitchen, neither one of us speaking.

Finally he turned to look at me, and his face was serious. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight," he said.

His comment surprised me, but I tried to keep my expression the same. "It's not very comfortable," I told him, but he shook his head. "It'll be fine." He grabbed a dish towel and wiped his hands. "I owe you an apology for ..."

"No apology necessary," I interrupted. "I'm an adult. I know how to say no."

"Even still, I got carried away, and it won't happen again." He dropped the dish towel on the counter and stared at me for a second, as if there was something else he wanted to say. Finally he spoke, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. "Just do me a favor and throw down a pillow and a blanket when you go up."

I nodded my head and forced a smile. "No problemo," I told him. I watched as he walked out of the room, and I bit down on my bottom lip. At least I knew where he stood. He'd thought it was a mistake, too. Because I'd definitely thought it was a mistake. I let out a sigh and started loading the dishwasher. _Who are you kidding_? I thought. _You'd be naked in a heartbeat if that's what he'd said he wanted. _

I shut the dishwasher and turned it on. I wiped down the counters and turned off the light. Morelli was on the couch watching television, and he didn't look at me when I walked by. I went upstairs, grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, a pillow, and a blanket, and took it down to him.

"Thanks," he said, barely even looking at me.

I paused, debating whether or not I should say something, and finally I threw caution to the wind and spoke. "Look, Morelli, you can sleep in the bed. We're both adults. We can ..."

"Maybe tomorrow night," he interrupted. "I think for tonight, though, it'd be a good idea if we didn't."

I nodded my head and smiled. "Understood. Sleep well, then," I said, and I walked upstairs, feeling sad and depressed. I'd gone from hate to lust in a matter of minutes, but obviously Morelli wasn't feeling the same. I laid down in the bed and tried to think evil thoughts about him, but all I could do was remember rubbing my hand over his shorts.

I rested my head on the pillow and prayed for sleep. Hopefully I'd wake up the next morning in hate with Morelli all over again. After all, that was the way it was supposed to be. Obviously he knew that. So what was the matter with me?


	5. Chapter 5

Morelli was out of the house early the next morning, so I hadn't been subjected to any further awkwardness. I'd made up my mind to relax a little on harassing him, but I also knew I had to appear professional so he wouldn't get the wrong idea. He obviously wasn't interested in pursuing what we'd started the day before, and that was fine with me. I was there to do a job. Nothing more than that.

I was sitting upstairs, eating a bagel, when I finally noticed some activity going on across the street. I ran to the window and saw two men standing outside in front of the house. I ran into the bedroom, threw on some clothes, and grabbed my car keys and my purse.

I sent in a brief communication, letting them know I was making contact, then I ran into the garage. I opened the door to the BMW, stuck my keys in the ignition, then quietly shut the door, making certain to lock it before I did that. I took a deep breath, opened the garage door, and walked out.

I stood there for a moment, looking around, and then I waved to the men across the street. They stared at me for a second, then gave me a brief nod as an acknowledgement.

"Hi," I called out. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I was wondering if you could help me?"

The men just stared at me, so I continued, finally making my way across the street and joining them. "I haven't had the opportunity to introduce myself." I extended my hand and flashed them a Bitsy-type smile. "My name's Sarah Roberts. My husband and I just moved in a few weeks ago. I absolutely love this neighborhood, and I just have to say that your house is beautiful." I was purposely rambling and trying my best to imitate Bitsy's behavior. "Which one of you live here or do you both?"

The man who had shaken my hand spoke up. "I do. And it's nice to meet you and all, but we're kinda busy. What was it you needed?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I've interrupted," I said. "But I just realized I locked my keys in the car last night. I have an appointment at 9:30, and I can't be late."

The man looked at me like he couldn't care less. "Sorry, but I don't think we can help you."

I smiled again and looked towards his front door. "Is there anyway possible I could use your phone? I locked the door leading from the garage to the house, and I can't get back in to use mine."

The man stared at me, obviously annoyed, and then he pulled out his cell phone. "You can use this."

"Oh, a cell phone. Of course," I said, fighting back the disappointment I was feeling. I'd really wanted to get inside the house. "Thank you so much," I said, taking his phone.

Just as I was about to dial a fake number, Morelli pulled up in the driveway. "I think you might be in luck," the other man said. "Is that your husband?"

"Well how about that," I told him. "It sure is." I deleted the numbers I'd entered and handed the man back his phone. "Thank you for being willing to help me, though. I really do appreciate it." I watched as Morelli strolled across the street, and I turned to the men one last time. "By the way, I hear there's some incredible block parties on this street. Do you two ever join in?"

The man looked at me like I was insane, and then Morelli stepped up beside me. "What's going on, dear?" he asked, but before I could answer he extended his hand and introduced himself.

"Your wife needs some help across the street," the taller one said.

Morelli stared down at me, and I smiled innocently. "I was just about to use their phone to call you. I locked my keys in the car again."

"_Again_?" Then he turned to the men. "Sorry to have bothered you," he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Thank you for your help."

"No trouble, man."

Morelli nodded and started turning me around. "Come on sweetheart. Let's go get those keys out of your car." We walked over to the car, and Morelli pulled his keys out of his pocket. He found his key to the BMW and unlocked the door. He took the keys out of the ignition and placed them in my hand. He smiled sweetly, but when he spoke, his tone didn't match his expression.

"Get in the house," he said between clenched teeth. "You have some explaining to do."

The two men had been watching us, and I glanced over to see that they were now driving away.

Morelli immediately hit auto dial on his phone, and I assumed he was contacting someone at the Albany P.D. He pointed to the door while he was talking, and I stepped inside, feeling like a disobedient child.

As soon as he disconnected, he let me have it. "What the hell were you thinking? That wasn't the way we were supposed to make contact."

"But they're never there. It's not my fault ..."

"It _is_ your fault. You should've contacted me, and we could've made arrangements to meet up and follow them. But because of you, I had to hand this off to someone else. This is my fucking case, and ..."

"Is that what this is about? _Your ego_? They're still being tailed, right? I don't see why you're so upset. I had an idea, and I ran with it. Unfortunately it didn't pan out, but what if it had?"

"And what if you'd fucked everything up? Weren't we warned about screw-ups?"

"How could I have screwed up? It was a simple conversation. I tried to get inside to use the phone, but he offered me a cell instead. I was going to dial a fake number, but then you showed up so I didn't have to. No harm, no foul."

"What were you going to do if you'd gotten inside the house?" He shook his head at me and stared. "Do you even think before you act?" He started to walk out of the room, dismissing me with the wave of his hand.

I followed behind him, not willing to let him get the last word. "I wasn't going to do anything more than look around and observe everything that I could. You're being ridiculous about this, Morelli. I'm a cop, too, you know. I'm not really a fucking housewife, and I'm sick and tired of this. You owe me some respect."

He turned around, and his eyes were dark. "You want respect? Then earn it. You don't make the rules, sweetheart. You follow them. "

I glared at him and shook my head. The sight of him was starting to make me sick. "I've done my fair share to earn it. You're just incapable of recognizing that. And don't you dare call me sweetheart."

As I walked up the stairs all I could wonder was how I could have been so stupid as to think I wanted him. He was still an arrogant shit. Thankfully he'd shown his true colors once again, and I felt much better knowing he'd reclaimed the number one spot on my hate list.

I sat down at the desk and tried to calm myself down. "Dammit," I said, slamming my fist down as hard as I could. I felt totally useless, and all I could do was sit there and think about getting in the car and driving back to Trenton. It wasn't as if I was contributing anyway.

But a larger part of me refused to let Morelli win, so I kept myself busy, trying to pass the time. We didn't speak to each other for the rest of the day, and he slept on the couch again that night. As soon as he left the house the following morning, I called Dr. Bentram and asked if she could relay a message to my parents. I was feeling homesick and missing Rex, and I continued to question my desire to ever do undercover work again.

* * *

I'd spent a large part of the next day being bored out of my mind. I had no idea what was going on with Morelli, and truth be told, I really didn't care. As long as he was nowhere in sight, I didn't have a reason to complain.

Finally at around four o'clock the doorbell rang, and it was Bitsy. She had a woman with her, who was introduced as a neighbor who lived down the street.

"Sarah, I'd like you to meet Margot Berkshire. She lives in the charming Colonial four houses down from you. Margot, this is Sarah Roberts, and her husband is John."

I smiled and shook Margot's hand. "Please come in," I said, trying to remember my manners. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"No thank you," Bitsy replied. "Nothing for me." She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs at her ankles. There was something in her demeanor that seemed different, and I assumed she was trying to impress Margot.

"How about for you, Margot?"

"Yes, I'll have green tea," she said.

I smiled again and chewed on my bottom lip. "I'm afraid we don't have any tea. How about a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, no thank you," she said snottily. "I only drink green tea."

"Water?" I tried again.

"Well, if you insist. I'll have Scotch on the rocks."

I stared over at Bitsy. "Um, we don't ... uh ..."

"Never mind," she said, as if she'd been majorly inconvenienced. "I'm fine without something."

She walked over to the side table and picked up the wedding photo I'd taken with Morelli. "So this is your husband?"

I smiled and nodded my head. "Yes, that's John."

"He's very handsome," she said. "You must keep him on a short leash. I know I certainly would." Her and Bitsy laughed, so I joined in. Margot looked like a Bitsy-type, but she certainly didn't behave like one. I knew right away I didn't like her, and for some reason, she had obviously decided she didn't care for me.

We all sat down, and Bitsy and Margot made small talk for a while, and I pretended to listen. "Sarah, I know this is short notice, but Brett has surprised me with an anniversary party this Saturday, and I would love for you and John to be there."

Margot looked over at me and gave me an icy stare. "It's at the Wilshire. Very elegant."

I didn't want to go, but there was something about the way Margot spoke that made me say, "We'd love to. You'll have to let me know the details later."

Bitsy nodded her head and smiled, and Margot watched me, expressionless.

The sound of the door opening startled me, and I quickly stood. "That must be John."

Margot perked up. "Your husband's home?"

Morelli walked into the room, and Margot was immediately on her feet, slinking over to him. "Why hello there," she purred. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand and introduced herself.

I did a major mental eye roll and watched as Morelli poured on the charm, introducing himself.

"I hear you're a golfer," she was saying. "I'm quite the golfer myself. Perhaps you'd care to play some time?"

Morelli looked over at me and smiled. "Sarah's rather useless with a club, but she's an expert at driving me around in a golf cart. I'm sure I could persuade her to go out one day."

Margot glanced over at me and frowned. "How adorable," she said.

"Goodness, look at the time," Bitsy interjected. "Brett will be home any minute." She stood and walked to the front door, looking over at Margot.

"It was lovely to meet you both," Margot said, shaking Morelli's hand again. "I look forward to seeing you on Saturday."

Morelli shut the door behind them and raised an eyebrow. "Saturday?"

"I'll tell you later," I said, and I started to leave the room.

"Could you wait a minute?" he asked. He motioned towards the couch and said, "I need to catch you up on everything that's happened."

I wasn't in the mood to listen, but it was, after all, my job, so I gave it my best effort. "So what's the next step?" I asked as soon as he finished.

"The next step is we find out who else is involved. There's another connection that we're missing, and I'd like for us to be the ones to figure out what that is."

I nodded my head and let out a sigh. I was having a difficult time concentrating, and I hated that.

"But I'm going to be honest with you," Morelli said. "I'm having a hard time trusting that you can help me with this."

That got my attention, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "_And why_? Because of yesterday?" I couldn't believe he'd just said that to me.

"Yes, because of yesterday. You don't think, Stephanie. Trust me, I understand. You want it bad. I've been there. But you're not me. You don't have my skills, my know-how ..."

"You are so full of yourself." I shook my head at him and stood up. "And to think I almost ..." I caught myself before I said it and headed for the kitchen instead. "Never mind," I called out. "It's not worth it."

"_Almost what_?" Morelli asked, following behind me.

"Nothing."

"_What_? Almost quit the case? Is that what you were about to say?"

"No, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you could have all the glory for yourself."

He looked at me and shook his head in disbelief. "Is that _really_ what you think?" He stood there waiting for a reply, but I stayed silent. He shook his head again and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I rested my elbow down on the counter and used the palm of my hand to support my forehead. "Please let this end soon," I prayed. I was teetering on the edge between sanity and madness, and I was afraid it wasn't going to take much to send me over.

* * *

I'd remembered seeing a little black dress in my suitcase, so I went into the closet, sliding hangers until I found it. I'd been given a pair of three inch black heels, so I strapped those on and selected matching jewelry. My hair and makeup were perfect, and I was actually only fifteen minutes late.

Morelli was already downstairs waiting for me, and he didn't look all that happy. He was wearing a black suit and a tie, and my first thought upon seeing him was that I'd better stick an extra pair of panties in my purse. Just the sight of him caused tingly sensations in all the right places. Of course the reality was that Morelli wasn't going to have anything to do with those places once our evening out was over, and I tried to fight back a frown.

He looked up when I walked into the room, smiling at the sight of me, and I knew immediately that the extra panties were a must. "I'll be right back," I said, hurrying up the stairs. I grabbed a black handbag and tossed in a compact, a tube of lipstick, and debated the underwear.

"Hurry up!" he yelled. "I want to get this over with."

I grabbed the present, and we walked into the garage. Morelli started to open the car door for me, but I beat him to it. He stood still and waited for me to be seated, and then he closed it behind me.

"You didn't have to do that," I told him as soon as he got in the car. "This isn't really a night out."

"Doesn't matter," he said, starting the car. "I can still be respectful, can't I?"

"If you must," I replied, pressing the garage door opener.

We rode in silence to the Wilshire, and Morelli pulled up at the curb for valet parking. I immediately switched to my Sarah persona and allowed him to open my door for me. He helped me out of the car and put his hand on the small of my back, leading me forward.

We made our way to the room Bitsy had reserved, and I was amazed at the number of people that were there. I saw about twenty tables, all filled with placecards, and they were positioned around a dance floor. There was an open bar, and Morelli immediately made his way to that, while I decided to find Bitsy.

I sat their present down on a table and started walking the room. I finally spotted her in the corner, chattering away, and she smiled wide when she saw me. For some reason I had become her new best friend, and it made me extremely uncomfortable.

She excused herself from the group and rushed to me, clasping my arm. "Sarah! I'm so glad you made it. I've put you and John at the same table as Brett and me." She scanned the room and looked back at me. "Where is he? You're not here alone, are you?"

"Oh no, he's here. He's getting us a drink."

Bitsy frowned when I said that, and I remembered what Morelli had told her. "It's okay," I said with a sheepish smile. "I'll behave."

"Oh good. I'd hate to be the cause of any problems."

"It's fine. _Really_," I said. I looked around and saw that Morelli had found our table. "If you don't mind, I'm going to join John. He's not exactly comfortable in these types of situations, so I told him I'd stay at the table with him." Of course the truth was I was the one feeling awkward, but I wasn't about to confess that.

"_Really_? John seems so outgoing."

His profile had actually used that word, so I thought quickly. "It's the suit. He's a little self-conscious about it."

"_Really_? But he looks so handsome in it."

"Men," I said with a laugh. "They're so silly sometimes."

"Don't I know it." She was about to continue speaking, but I stepped forward and gave her a cutesy wave. "See you at the table."

It was a little after ten, and both Morelli and I were itching to get out of there. I'd been careful not to drink too much so as to not upset Bitsy, but I was about to say "_the hell with it"_ and hit the bar for something stronger.

Bitsy walked over with Brett, and I could tell she'd already done just that. "Come on you two," she giggled. " Get out on the dance floor." She was holding Brett's hand and smiling from ear to ear. That was the most affectionate I'd ever seen her towards him, and he seemed to be eating it up.

"Oh, no, that's okay," I said, taking another sip of my champagne. "John doesn't dance."

Bitsy turned to Morelli and shook her head. "Dance with your wife," she said. "It's the least you could do." They floated away, and Morelli stared me down.

"_What_?" I asked, but he didn't answer. Instead he pushed back his chair and slowly walked over to me. He extended his hand, and I sat there, staring down at it. "I'm not dancing with you," I finally told him.

"_Yes, you are_. You've emasculated me enough." His face was a mixture of anger and passion, all dark and serious. "So now you're going to dance with me. In front of everyone here."

I shook my head no and picked up my glass. Morelli immediately took it out of my hand and set it back down. "_Take my hand_," he said in a tone that meant business.

I wanted to argue, but I knew it was pointless. I could see the determination in his face, so I swallowed hard and gently slid my chair back. I put my hand in his, and he led me to the dance floor.

There were so many couples out there that I relaxed a bit, thinking no one would notice us. Dancing wasn't exactly my forte.

Morelli pulled me to him, his mouth just above mine, and I heard him say, "I hope you're ready for this."

He placed one hand on my hip and the other on the small of my back. His leg pushed between mine, and he pulled me even closer to him. I had one hand on his back at his waist, and the other one resting against his shoulder.

We began to move to the music, but I could see the fire in Morelli's eyes, and I knew this wasn't about dancing. We swayed a bit more, and then he grabbed onto my hand and dipped me back. He left me there just mere seconds, and he pulled me back up against him, hard but yet sensual at the same time. My lips almost touched his, but he wouldn't allow it. He eased me away from him slightly, never once breaking eye contact, until I felt compelled to look away.

We stayed in time with the music, but my heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I could barely focus. Morelli's movements were controlled and precise, and I imagined that was exactly how he was in the bedroom. He grabbed onto my hand and spun me around, bringing me back to him with complete and total ease. I was his partner, and yet I found myself submitting to his every command.

He pulled me to him again, and we continued to dance, and I noticed at one point several other couples were watching us. I felt his fingers moving slowly along my back, as if he were planting soft whispers meant only for my ears. I stared into his eyes, and I wanted more than anything for him to kiss me, but I knew that wasn't in his plan.

His mouth hovered above mine, and I could feel the blood rushing around in my ears and the delicious throbbing sensation between my legs. Everything about him exuded sex, and I found myself fighting hard to keep up with him.

But no matter how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, the reality was that we weren't really a married couple simply enjoying a dance together. That thought helped me regain my focus, and I realized I seemed too eager. Morelli's eyes met mine again, and I immediately lowered my lids. I turned my head to the side and matched his movements, step for step. He dipped me again and swayed me slightly, bringing me back up for the last time. His mouth twitched, and I raised a single eyebrow at him. A slow smile crept across his face, and then the music stopped.

He took my hand and slowly walked me back to our table. "I'll have the valet bring up the car," he said. He picked up my champagne glass, took a swallow, and set it back down on the table, never once taking his eyes off of me.

I nodded my head and picked up the glass as soon as he put it down, never once speaking.

The moment Morelli stepped away, Bitsy was immediately beside me, and we both watched as he walked out of the room.

"_Wow_," she said. "Why did you say he couldn't dance?"

"Uh, he wasn't that good at our wedding." I swallowed hard and tried to steady my breathing. "That was a nice surprise."

"Maybe that's not all he'll surprise you with tonight." She gave me a smile, and a blush crept up on her cheeks. "You know, maybe you two can get in a little baby-making practice."

"_Bitsy_!" I said, trying to play shocked. "I can't believe you just said that." Then I laughed just as she had and picked up my purse. "Happy Anniversary," I told her, giving her a light hug. I wasn't a hugging-type person, but I figured Sarah was, so it seemed appropriate. "Your party was lovely. I'm glad we were able to celebrate with you."

"I hope you get to do some celebrating of your own," she said, blushing again. She covered her mouth and apologized. "I'm sorry. I think I've had too much to drink." She giggled again, and I forced a laugh. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd secretly hoped she was right.


	6. Chapter 6

We drove to the house in silence, and I took advantage of that time to think. There was no denying how attracted I was to Morelli, and I knew, without a doubt, that the feeling was mutual. But if we slept together that night, where would we go from there? The only commitment I'd ever known Morelli to make was to his badge, and I sat there wondering if I could deal with the fact that he might not commit to me.

That led to another line of thinking, which revolved around the fact that I didn't know if I even wanted him to commit to me. I'd gone from hating him to lusting after him in such a short amount of time, and I knew I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I'd wanted him desperately that day on the couch, and in the heat of the moment, I hadn't bothered to think about what would happen the next day or the day after that, or even when we were back in Trenton. But now, in the silence of the car, my thoughts were racing, and they were starting to ruin what had the potential to be an incredibly hot and passionate night.

I walked inside and placed my purse down on the table. Morelli walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, planting kisses on the side of my neck. I turned my head to the side, and before I gave myself time to think said, "I'm not sure I can do this."

He was quiet for a moment, and then he turned me around to face him. "Do you mean tonight? Or ever?"

"I don't know," I said, staring him in the eyes. "I guess I need to know first where you see this going?"

Morelli hesitated and then took my hand. "I can't make any promises for the future, Stephanie. But as for right now, I'd like to see us going upstairs and having a really good time together." He leaned closer to me, his mouth moving to touch mine.

I let out a slight laugh and shook my head no, easing myself away from him. "Sorry, Joe. As tempting as that may sound, that's not exactly what I'm looking for right now."

"_Okay_. So what is it that you are looking for? What do you want from me?"

I let out a sigh and looked away. "I'm not really sure. But I'm just not into the whole _'let's have sex just to be having sex_' thing. That's not who I am."

"That's not what I'm asking you to do," he said, moving closer to me again.

"Then what _are_ you asking?"

Morelli rubbed his hand across his forehead, staring down at the floor. "I don't think it matters much anymore. I believe the mood might have passed."

"Okay then," I said, turning on my heels. "Hope you sleep well on the couch."

"Steph," he called out, holding onto my arm. "Wait a minute. I was teasing ..."

"Exactly, Joe. But I don't want to be teased. And I don't want to be played. I want to know, up front, where you stand." I stared directly at him and smiled. "I don't want have to hit you with the Buick again."

He laughed and returned the smile, and it was the closest I'd felt to being comfortable with him since we'd gotten there.

"Fair enough," he said. He stared me in the eyes, and I caught myself wishing he'd say the words I actually wanted to hear. Exactly what I was pretending not to want. But fantasies don't always become reality, and that night was no exception.

"Truth is, Stephanie, I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. This pretend ring on my finger ... let's just say I don't see a real one on my hand any time soon."

"I'm not saying you have to marry me. I'm asking ..."

"You're asking me what happens when we get back to Trenton?" He paused and watched as I nodded my head. "I can't answer that. I'd like to continue seeing you, but I'm not going to tell you that you can't see other men."

I nodded my head and squeezed my lips together, trying my best to hide the disappointment I was feeling. "I appreciate you being honest with me." I picked up my purse from the table and smiled. "Thanks for the dance. I had a nice evening."

"Stephanie ..." he called out after me, but I didn't look back. I locked the door and threw myself down on the bed. "You are such a fucking idiot," I said to myself. "You _could_ be having a really good time right now."

I pulled off one of my shoes and threw it across the room. It hit the wall, and even in the dark, I could see it'd left a mark. "Who gives a shit?" I said, throwing the other one right behind it. I pulled the blanket up around me and fought back the urge to cry. "You were the one who wanted honesty, you big dumb ass."

But no matter how much I cursed myself, I didn't feel any better. It took a while, but I finally fell asleep, still wearing my little black dress.

* * *

The days passed, and there wasn't a single bit of activity for me to watch across the street. Morelli was staying busy, though, which was a relief for me. The less I had to see of him the better.

I'd been subjected to the company of Bitsy every single day, and I was starting to feel brain dead. There was only so much I could stand before I wanted to scream. I didn't care who had fathered so and so's baby or who was having an affair with some tramp's husband. I'd never been a fan of soap operas, and I wanted to strangle Bitsy every time she brought them up. But of course I smiled sweetly and let her talk. It wasn't as if I had anything better to do.

Finally she came over one day with a stack of papers and a bucket of pens, markers, and stickers. "You want to help me design the invitations for our next block party?"

"_Oh my gosh? Are you serious_? Would I ever!" I smiled like an idiot and immediately felt guilty. Bitsy wasn't a bad person, and I shouldn't have mocked her. Fortunately she thought my excitement was genuine, so I didn't have to apologize.

"I thought you would," she said, walking past me and going straight to the dining room. "Come on. This is going to be so much fun."

Two hours later we'd designed some pretty lame invitations for a cookout on Sunday. Bitsy was running through the list of possible attendees, and I was writing down their names. "Bitsy, aren't these the same people who always come?" I asked her, trying my best not to sound irritated.

"Well, no," she said. "You and John are new. And the people across the street from us never come. And sometimes the Hendersons can't make it. And I never know with Margot."

"But shouldn't you wait and write these down after everyone has R.S.V.P'd?" I sat my pen down on the table and thought about Margot. I'd been meaning to ask Bitsy about her but hadn't found the right time.

"Speaking of Margot," I said, "what's the deal with her?"

I caught the frown on Bitsy's face before she immediately turned it into a smile. "Oh Margot's a character, isn't she?"

"Character's not the word I would use. I was thinking more in terms of a bitch."

Bitsy immediately turned her head and stared at me. "_Sarah_! I can't believe you just said that."

"Well I'm sorry, but the way she acted the day you brought her over ... it was obvious from the get-go she didn't like me."

"She did seem to be acting strange. And _she_ was the one who insisted I bring her over."

I thought about that for a second and then realized she'd most likely seen Morelli and wanted a chance to meet him. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Bitsy nodded her head, but she didn't seem too thrilled about it.

"Why are you friends with her? It doesn't seem like you two have a lot in common."

"For the longest time she wouldn't have anything to do with me. And then one day out of the blue, she showed up at my house. And ever since then, she drops by periodically just to visit. "

"Well I wouldn't open the door to her if I were you."

"_Sarah_! I could never do that. And I don't think you could either."

_Oh yes I could_, I thought, but I decided to drop the subject. My true side was obviously upsetting Bitsy, and I didn't think that was good for Sarah's image. "You're right," I finally said. "I couldn't really do it. But she should at least be nicer."

* * *

Saturday evening arrived, and Morelli still hadn't made it back to the house. Over the past week we'd only spoken to each other to discuss the case, and I'd barely seen him. The couch had become his permanent sleeping spot, so as soon as he'd finish giving me the details for the day, I'd go upstairs and leave him alone.

I left a note on the table for him to come to Bitsy's house as soon as he got in, and then I left, carrying our contributions. A bag of potato chips and a 2-liter of soda was the best she was going to get. Bitsy had tried to talk me into baking a casserole, but I got out of it by saying John was sick of them. She didn't argue with that, because in Bitsy's mind, a wife did whatever was necessary to please her husband. And anything that displeased him was a sin against all that was right in the world.

"Where's John?" she immediately asked when I walked into the backyard.

"He'll be here," I assured her, handing off my items. "He just has to work late again."

I scanned the crowd and happily noted no Margot in attendance. I'd just settled down in a lawn chair when a man I'd never seen before approached me. "Hi there. I'm Josh Henderson," he said, extending his hand. "You must be the new girl on the block."

I smiled and shook his hand. "That would be me. I'm Sarah Roberts."

He flashed me a smile and stared at my breasts. "Did you know the community pool just opened? Do you swim?"

I nodded my head. "I do. And to be honest I'd forgotten all about it. I'm glad you reminded me."

"You should come up there tomorrow. I'll be there. I bet you look great in a bikini."

I started to respond when I realized what it was he'd just said. He saw the look on my face and laughed. "Just being playful. It's my way of breaking the ice." He stared at my breasts some more and then his eyes moved further south.

His eyes were still lingering when Morelli walked up. He glanced over in Morelli's direction, gave a slight frown, and then smiled again when I introduced them. "Don't forget the pool," he said, giving me a wink when Morelli wasn't looking.

I forced a smile but didn't speak, and I watched him walk off. "What a pig," I said, shaking my head in disgust.

Morelli took a swallow of his drink and stared at me. "What? He seemed like a decent guy."

"Well he isn't. Especially since he's married. Not to mention he's supposed to think I am, too," I whispered.

"_Why_? What'd he say?" Morelli turned to look at him and then looked back at me. "Was he flirting with you?"

I relayed the conversation back to him, and Morelli's expression never changed. "Just ignore him," he said as soon as I finished. He brought his cup to his mouth and gulped the rest of it down. "Worst comes to worst, just let him have it. Poor bastard'll never know what hit him."

He started laughing, but I rolled my eyes and walked away, never saying a word. I'd secretly been hoping that Morelli would show some sign of jealousy, but that was obviously wishful thinking on my part.

I also spent the rest of the evening hoping that being around everyone at the cookout would mean we'd be forced to interact, but Morelli mostly kept his distance from me. He sat beside me while we ate, but other than that, he spent most of his time talking to other people. After a while, I gave up and began collecting dirty dishes and carrying them inside.

"Don't do that, Sarah," Bitsy said, following after me. "I always clean up afterwards."

"I don't mind. You do so much that this is the least I can do. And besides, I'm kind of tired of socializing."

Bitsy looked at me as if I'd said I was tired of breathing in and out and wanted to lay down and die.

"I did a lot of housework today," I explained. "I'm just physically tired."

Bitsy nodded her head and smiled. "Then you don't need to be doing dishes. Come on back outside and relax in one of the lounge chairs. You can't go home before I've served dessert."

I let out a sigh and smiled. "Okay. I'll be right out. Do you mind if I use your restroom first?"

"Of course not, silly goose."

I took my time in the house, and when I finally went back outside, Morelli was deep in conversation with several of the men. Bitsy eventually served dessert, and soon after people began to say their goodbyes.

When it was time for Morelli and me to leave, Bitsy and Brett walked us out to the front yard. "So did you enjoy your first neighborhood party?" she asked excitedly.

"It was a lot of fun," I told her. "You really do go all out for these. How could someone not have a great time?"

Brett and Morelli made small talk, while Bitsy rambled on and on about where she'd shopped for everything and what she wanted to do for the next one.

After a few more minutes, Morelli took my hand and interrupted us. "I think this one's tired. I better get her home."

Bitsy smiled at that, and we all waved goodbye. We walked across the yard, still holding hands, Morelli gently swinging them back and forth. He finally let go when he had to unlock the door, and I immediately made my way inside and hurried up the stairs. I was tired of playing this part and wanted desperately just to go home.


	7. Chapter 7

Morelli was out of the house early, and I was once again bored. I'd asked him before he left if I could go with him, but he'd instantly said no. I'd stormed off up the stairs immediately after that, slamming the door to the surveillance room. This was total bullshit, and I was extremely pissed that I was being wasted. I hated that I wasn't contributing.

Sometime around three o'clock Bitsy dropped by to relive the cookout, and I was _this close_ to telling her to shut the fuck up and go home.

I noticed after a while, though, that she seemed to have something on her mind, but she wouldn't come right out and say it. She kept talking about all the people Morelli had talked to, asking me if I'd met them myself. Finally she walked over to the table and picked up the framed wedding photo I had sitting there.

"Your dress is beautiful," she said. She sat it back down and hesitated. "I hope you're not offended by me saying this, but John really is a gorgeous man. I mean he's the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome."

I nodded my head and smiled faintly. "Yes, he's nice looking."

"_Just nice looking_? Oh my gosh, didn't you notice all the women drooling over him last night?"

"Mmm-hmm, I noticed." It was nothing new. Women had been drooling over Morelli for years. Until this assignment I hadn't been one of them, and I was completely disgusted with myself for having now become one.

"Does it bother you?"

"Women staring at him? No, I don't care."

"_Really_?"

I nodded my head but then hesitated, trying to decide if I was supposed to play Sarah as the jealous type. I wondered if someone who didn't wear jeans would actually have that emotion.

Fortunately Bitsy's next comment settled the debate for me. "Just watch out for Trisha Henderson." She looked around and then whispered as if there were someone else besides me that could actually hear her. "I hate to say this, but she's kind of a tramp, and she was buzzing all around John whenever you'd go inside."

"_She was_? Did he talk to her?"

"Just for a while. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but she was laughing, and he was smiling."

"Which one is she again? The blonde with the big you-know-whats?"

Bitsy nodded her head. "But you're not upset, are you? You're not going to say anything to her, are you?" The thought of a confrontation had Bitsy in a panic. "I wouldn't have said anything at all, except you said you didn't care if women stared at him."

"Staring's one thing," I told her, "but flirting's an entirely different story."

I thought about Trisha's disgusting husband, Josh, and how he'd behaved with me. I'd hoped that Morelli would've shown a bit of jealousy, but he hadn't. I thought about this Trisha woman and hated the fact that I was the one who was jealous. I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to punch her in the face, and I wanted to confront Morelli.

I stopped for a moment and considered the way that I was feeling. Morelli wasn't actually my husband, so I didn't have any right to yell at him for flirting with her. I thought about it some more and then decided that I _did_ have a right. He was supposed to be playing a part, and if he was making goo-goo eyes at someone else, he might compromise our cover. Deciding that made me feel better. I had every right to let him have it, and I didn't have to worry about the real reasons that were behind it.

Bitsy gave me a look, and I smiled. "Don't worry," I finally said. "I won't say a word. And it's not as if she can get anything from John anyway." I felt bad for bringing that up again, but I secretly hoped Bitsy would spread the word. If I wasn't going to sleep with Morelli, I wanted to make sure no one else did either.

* * *

I was waiting for Morelli that evening, and I was ready. I had pizza delivered for supper, and there were cold beers in the refrigerator.

Morelli gave me a strange look and sat down on the couch. "You're actually eating supper with me tonight? What's the special occasion?"

"No special reason. I was just in the mood for pizza, and I thought you'd like some, too."

I flipped on the television and settled on a channel. Morelli didn't complain, so I left it there. We ate in silence for a few minutes, then I took a breath and started in.

"Oh, I meant to ask. Did you learn anything last night at the cookout?"

Morelli glanced over at me, puzzled, then grabbed another slice of pizza. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night when you were talking to everybody. Did you learn anything of interest?"

"If I'd learned anything, I would've told you."

"_Mmm-hmm_," I said sarcastically.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

He stared at me, obviously sizing up the situation, and then a slow smile crept across his face.

"Why are you smiling?"

"No reason," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"You _never_ smile without a reason."

"Just that you've obviously talked to Bitsy."

"I'm stuck talking to Bitsy daily. It's now my routine. Have shower. Drink coffee. Be tortured by Bitsy." I grabbed a third slice of pizza and scooted away from him a little.

"And what did Bitsy tell you?"

"_Nothing_. Nothing at all." I glared at him and scooted over some more.

"You're a horrible liar."

"That's a good thing!" I yelled at him. "Too bad you can't say the same."

"I haven't done anything," he said, grinning. "Why do I need to lie?"

"Just leave me alone."

He put his plate down and moved closer to me. "If there's something specific you want to ask me, then just do it."

"I did. I asked if you learned anything last night." And before I could stop myself, the words came hurtling out of my mouth. "Especially from Trisha. Apparently you had a nice long conversation with her."

"_Who_?" Morelli asked, obviously trying to play stupid. "Which one is she?"

"You know who she is. You're a cop, Morelli, and a damned good one. You remember every last detail, and you never forget a name."

He grinned and moved even closer. "Okay, so maybe I remember her."

I started to stand, but he pulled me back down. "So you think she gave me information, and I'm not sharing? Why would I do that?"

"That's not what I think."

"So then what is this about?"

I sat there, realizing I'd majorly fucked up. I'd just admitted I wasn't concerned about him getting information, so I was now forced to bring up the relationship aspect. "This is about you not being able to control yourself and potentially blowing our cover."

He sat there, staring at me, and then he shook his head. "No it's not."

"_Yes it is_. We're supposedly married and in love, and you're flirting with Mrs. Double D's. How do you think that looks?"

"I don't care how that looks. I'm more concerned with how _this_ looks."

I started to stand up again, but then I stopped and stared at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're jealous."

"That's ridiculous! Why on earth would I be jealous?"

"You tell me."

"I am _not_ jealous. You made it perfectly clear this is a working relationship, and if anything were to happen between us, that it wouldn't mean anything."

"I never said it wouldn't mean anything."

"Whatever," I told him. "All I'm saying is just watch yourself. You're not doing a very good job playing your part as it is ..."

Morelli interrupted me. "_I'm not_? Care to tell me what it is that I'm doing wrong?"

"Nothing!" I yelled. "Just forget it." I stomped up the stairs and slammed the door. I was so over this entire situation. To hell with all of it. Who cared about illegal drugs anyway? I let out a sigh and put a pillow over my face, screaming inside of it so Morelli wouldn't hear. Of course I cared and I wanted to see the bad guys arrested and to know I'd played a small part in helping that happen. I just wanted it to happen soon so I could get the hell away from Morelli.

* * *

A few days later I put in a call to Dr. Bentram and asked if she could speak with Chief Kelley about me leaving the case. The house across the street had been empty since the day I'd approached them, and Morelli and the Albany P.D. weren't utilizing me for a single thing.

"I already know what the answer to that is going to be," Dr. Bentram said. "And I know it's frustrating for you to not contribute, but you need to continue on and just be patient."

"Fine," I sighed. "Can I at least have approval to spend some money? I'll save the receipts and reimburse the department for anything I spend. I _need_ to shop."

Dr. Bentram laughed. "That shouldn't be a problem. I'll approve it on the basis of a psychological necessity." We both laughed, and I hung up the phone feeling a little less depressed. I slipped into my sandals and walked over to Bitsy's house. She could out-shop me any day of the week, so I figured she was the perfect person to tag along.

By the time we made it home that evening, it was pouring down rain, and I was two hundred dollars in debt to the department.

Morelli stood when I walked in the door, and he came over and helped me with the bags. He raised an eyebrow, and I scowled at him. "I got approval," I said, but he just smiled. "I wasn't going to say anything."

I sat my bags down and walked into the kitchen, Morelli following behind me. "I rented a few movies if you want to watch one."

I opened the freezer and grabbed a carton of ice cream. "Okay," I said, pulling a spoon out of the dishwasher. "I could watch a movie. What'd you get?"

"I can't remember the names of all of them. I just went through and grabbed some."

I walked out to the living room and looked at the choices. "Ben Stiller's funny. Let's watch this one. I'm in the mood for a comedy."

I made myself comfortable on the couch, and Morelli disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later I heard popcorn popping in the microwave, and he walked out and put two beers down on the coffee table. "Do you want your own bag?" he asked.

"No. I can share," I said, somewhat embarrassed.

He came back out with a bowl of popcorn and put it on the couch between us. He slipped the disc into the DVD player and then clicked 'Play.' We sat in silence, watching, and I was trying my best to concentrate on the movie, but all I could think about was Morelli.

The movie started out innocently enough, but it wasn't long and I started to have my doubts as to what type of movie it actually was. By the time the second sex scene rolled around, I was squirming on the couch.

"Isn't this a remake?" I asked, reaching into the bowl for a handful of popcorn.

"I think so," Morelli said, and then his hand touched mine as he reached for some, too.

Our eyes met, and the lights and the television flickered off, only to come back on seconds later. "Must be a serious storm coming," Morelli said, and he stood up and walked to the window.

"I hate storms," I whined, following behind him. "Does it look bad?"

He turned around and stared at me, his face serious. "No, it doesn't look bad at all," he whispered. "Far from it, actually," he said, and then before I knew what was happening, his lips were lightly touching mine.

I started to close my eyes when I caught sight of a car pulling up in front of the house across the street. "Someone's there," I shouted out, and Morelli turned around quickly, pulling me away from the window. "Get upstairs," he said. "Watch what goes on. I'm going outside."

A minute or two later, I was back downstairs, and Morelli was closing the front door. "False alarm," I said with a frown. Morelli nodded and made his way upstairs to change. "Yeah, I love getting drenched for nothing."

He rejoined me on the couch a few minutes later, and we both stared at the television. "I don't think I want to watch the rest of that," I told him, and he nodded his head in agreement.

The sound of thunder startled me, and I jumped. "There's nothing to be afraid of," Morelli said. "It's just a little storm passing through."

I nodded my head and swallowed hard. "I'm not afraid." But I was, and he knew it.

He moved sideways on the couch and faced me. "So if the movie can't take your mind off of it, I guess you're just going to have to talk to me instead." He smiled and stared at me. "Tell me something about you I don't know."

I sat there trying to think, but I couldn't come up with anything. Finally I said, "I have a hamster. His name's Rex." I pushed back all thoughts of him, though, because I was determined not to cry. Especially in front of Morelli. "What about you? Do you have any pets?"

"No, I don't have time for any. But I wouldn't mind getting a dog one day. We always had one growing up. I miss that."

I nodded my head. "So what's your favorite sport?"

"That's easy. Baseball. Hockey's a close second."

I smiled. "The Rangers?"

"Of course," he said, and I laughed. He took a swallow of his beer and stared at me. "What's your dream vacation?"

"Hmm, I don't know," I said thinking. "Probably going to Hawaii. I love the beach. How about you?"

Morelli thought for a minute. "I'd say a trip to Italy. Growing up and hearing my grandmother talk about it all the time has always made me want to go there."

We continued talking, and I realized after a while that I hadn't even paid attention to the storm outside. Morelli put the popcorn bowl on the table and moved closer to me. "Look at there. We actually had a nice conversation and didn't threaten to kill each other."

I laughed and couldn't help but give him a smile. His face grew serious, and he picked up my hand. He started to speak but suddenly stopped. He rubbed my hand lightly with his thumb and then stared into my eyes. "I was a pretty thoughtless kid. I could've treated you better."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't find the words. I sat silently for a few seconds and then finally managed to say, "I could've hit the brake before I jumped the curb."

He leaned in closer to me, and I found myself drawing closer to him. He cradled my cheek with his hand, and his lips pressed against mine. "What if we agree that this doesn't end up in the bedroom?"

I nodded my head and kissed the side of his neck. "That might be a good idea." I ran my hand over his chest, and his hand slid up my back. I shuddered at the sensation, and our kisses grew more passionate. Thunder rumbled, and immediately we were in the dark. I pushed away and jumped up, walking over to the window and peering out.

"I can't believe you're scared of storms," he teased. "I didn't think you were afraid of anything." He put his arms around me and kissed the back of neck.

"I can't threaten the weather with my gun and make it behave," I told him. "If I could, then storms wouldn't bother me so much."

Morelli turned me around and stared into my eyes. "Do we have any candles?"

I shook my head. "I've never noticed any, but I'll go look for a flashlight."

He held me in place, keeping me from leaving. "Never mind," he said. "A flashlight won't give us the same effect." He pulled me to him and whispered, "Just calm down, Steph." He rested his head on the top of mine and gave me a hug. "Dance with me."

"_What_?" I asked. "We don't have any music. I can't dance without ..."

"We don't need music," he said, taking my hand in his. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and he started to move us back and forth.

"Joe, this is silly ..."

"It's _not_ silly. And besides, I want to _really_ dance with you."

"You danced with me the other night."

"That wasn't about dancing, and you know it."

I nodded my head and then rested it against his chest, giving in and allowing myself to move with him.

The way he danced with me was entirely different than the time before. He still moved with precision, but he was gentle, and I could sense he wasn't trying to control me. He dipped me back, but when he brought me up to him, our lips touched, and I knew it was something he wanted just as much as I did. His fingers strummed along my back just as he'd done before, but this time he actually did whisper in my ear.

"You're so beautiful," he said. I could feel his smile against my cheek, and I was about to speak, but he continued. "I love holding you in my arms." He gently caressed my hair and then leaned in for a kiss. He started to unbutton my blouse when the lights flickered back on.

We both looked up at the light, and then his eyes met mine. "Guess the storm's passed."

I nodded my head, and we smiled at each other. "Must be a sign," I told him, staring down at the floor. I stood there a moment, debating whether or not to ask him what I was thinking. Deciding to just do it, I asked, "Are you sleeping on the couch tonight?"

He didn't answer me immediately, and when he did, his voice was low, and he answered my question with a question of his own. "I don't know. Should I?"

I bit down on my bottom lip and tried to think. "I'm not sure," I said finally.

"Then that means I am."

I nodded my head and turned toward the stairs, but he stopped me before I could leave, pulling me to him and kissing me softly. "Good night, Stephanie."

I walked up the stairs slowly, happy that I hadn't abandoned the case after all.


	8. Chapter 8

A few days later I was bored out of my mind again, and I decided I was in desperate need of some exercise. I went to the weight room and stared at all of the equipment. Morelli used it religiously and seemed to enjoy it, but to me, it all looked like devices invented for torture.

I went back to my room and scrounged around in the drawers until I'd found the bathing suit I'd been given. I had no idea why Sarah was the type of person who couldn't wear tank tops and jeans, but she'd wear a bikini. I had a feeling it had more to do with wanting to torture me than anything else, but I didn't care. Swimming was the only exercise that held any appeal to me, and that was what I was going to do.

I grabbed a cover-up and hurried downstairs, slipping into a pair of sandals. I didn't have sunscreen, but I was hoping I could bum some off of someone at the pool. I grabbed a towel, the keys to lock the door, and set off down the street. I debated whether or not I should drive, but I knew the pool was within walking distance, and the extra exercise would do me some good.

As I made my way down the street, I saw Margot standing outside in front of her house. Her back was turned to me, and I could see she was talking to someone. As I moved closer, I could see that it was a man, and I rolled my eyes at that. Probably putting the moves on someone else's husband. _Stop being stupid_, I thought. _Morelli's not your husband_.

I took a deep breath and forced a smile on my face. I had a part to play, and unfortunately I was written to be a friendly person. Stephanie would've flipped her the bird and kept going, but Sarah was the type who would actually smile and speak.

"Hi," I called out. "How are you today?" I glanced over at the man and stopped dead in my tracks. It was the same man who'd let me borrow his cell phone that day. The same man who'd been across the street.

Margot looked over at me, and I felt like I needed to say something else since I'd stopped. "Just going to the pool," I told her. "It's a perfect day for a swim."

She waved me along and simply said, "Have fun." The man had stepped inside the house when he saw me stop, and Margot turned and followed behind him.

I started walking again, and I began cursing myself for not bringing my cell phone. I'd been wasting my time watching the house across the street, while all of the activity was happening _down_ the street. How had Morelli and the Albany P.D. missed that? Margot was obviously the missing link. She was the connection that Morelli had mentioned. I thought about it some more and realized that was probably why she had bothered Bitsy at odd times. She was there to distract her and make certain she didn't see what was going on right in her own neighborhood.

I turned the corner and made my way down the street behind ours. I hurried along until I was walking back towards our house. I cut through Bitsy's yard and ran up to our front porch, my hands shaking as I tried to unlock the door. I finally made it inside and raced to the phone, calling Morelli.

"We're on it," he said. "Good work," he told me before he hung up.

I paced back and forth, hoping to hear something, but the day dragged on, and the phone never rang. Finally, a little after nine o'clock I heard the garage door open, and I hurried to greet Morelli. It was pouring down rain, and when he walked in, I saw that he was soaked.

"I've got good news," he said, stripping off his shirt. "Thanks to you, I think this case is about to break."

"_Really_?" I asked. "How soon?" I stood there letting his words sink in, and I realized I wasn't exactly happy with what he'd just said.

"_Soon_," he told me. "Let me get out of these wet clothes, and we'll talk."

He started up the stairs, and I followed behind him. A flash of lightning startled me, and I picked up the pace.

He pulled out some dry clothes and went into the bathroom. I sat down on the bed and waited for him. When he finally came out, his body was dry, but his hair was damp, and I had to look away before I started drooling.

He ran the towel over his hair one more time and tossed it on the floor. "Have you eaten?" he asked, and I shook my head no. "I was waiting to hear from you. And then I decided to wait until the storm passed."

He sat down on the bed beside me and grinned. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

We sat there a moment, and finally I said, "So tell me what's going on."

I tried to listen to what he was saying, but all I could think about was how close his body was to mine. The thunder rumbled louder, and I instinctively jumped at the sound.

"It's just thunder," he teased, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "There. Is that better?" he asked.

I swallowed hard and tried to calm myself. "It's okay," I said, starting to move away. "I'm not scared."

"You're terrified. Don't even try to deny it." He grinned and pulled me back to him.

"Joe, I know you're trying to be nice, but ..."

He turned my face toward his and stared into my eyes. "Nice isn't what I'm going for," he said, and before I knew it, we were kissing.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I told him, trying to break free, but truth was I wasn't exactly giving it my all.

"Maybe not," he whispered, "but I don't really care anymore. _I want you_." He started undoing the buttons on my blouse, and I pulled at his shirt, desperately wanting it off of him.

"If the doorbell rings," he said, "we ignore it." I nodded my head, and he unbuttoned my shorts, pulling down the zipper and then working them down my legs. He kissed his way back up, pausing briefly to plant a few kisses on the top of my panties. He eased the straps of my bra down my arms and then reached behind me and unhooked it. He threw it across the room and then lowered his head, taking my nipple in his mouth. "_Joe_," I moaned, and he continued sucking on my breast while his fingers teased my other nipple.

He lowered me down on the bed, and then his hand slid down and rubbed between my legs. My eyes were closed, and the only thought racing through my mind was how long it was going to take for him to get naked. I turned my head and looked out the window, watching the intense storm just outside.

I spread my legs apart, hoping he'd take the hint, but instead of ripping off his shorts, he began kissing his way down my body. He planted a few kisses on the inside of my thigh, and then he finally pushed my panties to the side. "Is this where you want me?" he whispered. I nodded my head, unable to speak, and he gently pushed a finger inside of me. "Hmm," he said. "I don't think you're ready to take me," and I caught myself moaning at his words. I'd passed ready weeks ago.

"I think I have a little bit of work to do down here." He slid my panties down and spread my legs even further. I felt his hot breath on me, and then his tongue flicked across me, and I moaned again. Maybe he was right. A little bit of this was probably what I needed before he gave me what I desperately wanted.

His tongue seemed to be everywhere, but it was as if he was purposely avoiding where I needed it the most. Finally he relinquished and moved his mouth a bit higher, instantly sucking me with an intensity that was driving me wild. I was running my fingers through his hair, and I knew I was on the verge of an orgasm. I wanted it more than anything, but at the same time, I was scared of letting myself go and surrendering to him. I felt my body tense, and I told myself what we were doing was wrong. "I can't," I said, trying to push him away. "We shouldn't be doing this."

He reached up and grabbed hold of my hand. "Do you really want me to stop?" he asked.

I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath, and I shook my head. "_No_," I whispered. I turned my head to the side and swallowed hard. "No," I said a bit louder. "Please don't stop."

"Then just relax," he said. "Stop fighting it, and enjoy what you're feeling." I closed my eyes, and minutes later I felt the release I had been longing for. I shuddered as he continued his assault between my legs, not stopping until he was certain that I'd finished.

My eyes were still closed, but I could tell he was taking off the rest of his clothes. As soon as he finished, his mouth was back on my breasts, and he was positioning himself on top of me. I knew the storm was moving closer, because every ten seconds or so, flashes of lightning would dance across the walls. The rain was pounding on the roof, and I wrapped my arms around him and raised my hips slightly, ready to take him.

He kissed the side of my neck, along the length of my shoulder, and then his lips brushed lightly across my mouth. He was still above me, but he wasn't making any attempt to enter me.

"Don't tease me," I whispered. "I can't wait any longer." Almost immediately he pushed into me, and I let out a soft moan. He alternated his strokes, determining what I liked best, and then he found his rhythm.

"Oh God, Stephanie," he was saying, "you feel incredible." Our tongues danced with one another, and I ran my hands all along his back. "I love being inside of you," he said, staring into my eyes. I licked my lips and nodded my head. "I love what you're doing to me," I whispered, and his mouth was instantly back on mine.

The sound of thunder crashed, I heard myself moan louder, and Morelli pushed even deeper inside of me. The storm raged on, and I didn't even care. I knew at some point it had finally stopped, but I had no idea when that was. Morelli had done a fantastic job of distracting me way into the night.

* * *

"Did you forget?" Bitsy asked as soon as I opened the door. "We're all hanging out at the pool today. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah, the pool. I forgot."

"Well go get ready. I have a picnic basket packed for us. Is John awake?"

"He's at work, but I'll leave him a note telling him to join us as soon as he can."

"Alright," Bitsy said. "Now get ready and meet us up there."

I grabbed my second cup of coffee and unsuccesfully fought back a yawn. I was exhausted from the night before, but the lack of sleep had definitely been worth it. Morelli was exactly as I'd imagined him to be in bed, and I caught myself fantasizing about him instead of getting dressed.

I finally managed to pull myself together long enough to shower and throw on my bathing suit. I locked the door behind me and set out on foot once again. The ground was wet from the night before, and there were limbs and debris down everywhere, but Bitsy's yard already looked perfect. She must've been up before the crack of dawn cleaning it. I wondered if she might've heard Morelli and me, but then I decided that was ridiculous. I couldn't have been that loud.

I walked along, thinking back on the night before, hoping I'd see Morelli soon. The thought of playing with him in the sun sounded exciting, and then playing with him back at the house sounded even better. The day was already hot and humid, and I picked up the pace, thinking a dive into a cold pool was just what I needed.

"There you are," Bitsy said as I strolled up. "What took you so long?"

Brett was rubbing suntan lotion all over her back, and she stared out at me from beneath her large straw hat. "You're next. You don't want to go home with a sunburn."

I slipped out of my cover-up and adjusted the straps of my bikini top. I kicked off my sandals and made myself comfortable in a lounge chair.

"Are we swimming or just sunning?" I asked Bitsy.

"Both, but I always like to work up a sweat before I dive in. Makes me appreciate the cold water a bit more."

I nodded my head and laid back, closing my eyes. "Don't get too comfortable," Bitsy said. "Brett still needs to do your back."

"Oh, yeah, suncreen," I said, sitting back up, waiting for Brett to finish. "Mind if I use some now?" I asked, and he tossed me the bottle. I began to liberally apply it to my arms and legs, and then finally Brett walked over. I was about to stand up, but before I could, he straddled the back of the chair and sat down behind me. It felt uncomfortable having him so close to me, and I looked over at Bitsy and smiled nervously, hoping she didn't think I was enjoying it.

He'd just started rubbing it on my shoulders when I heard someone say, "I think I can do that." I looked up, shielding my eyes with my hand, and stared at Morelli.

He took the bottle from Brett, and Brett looked embarrassed. "Of course," he said, and then he went back to the chair beside Bitsy.

"I didn't expect you here so soon," I told him, but Morelli just kept staring at me. He gave me a smile, then immediately moved behind me, taking the same position Brett had been in on the chair.

He squeezed some lotion onto his hand and began to rub it all over my shoulders. "We don't want you to get burnt," he whispered into the back of my ear. He continued rubbing, and then I heard him say, "Hold your top in place. I'm going to undo this to put lotion on your back."

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of his hands on my body. I caught myself dreaming of his hands in other places, and I opened my eyes and turned back to look at him. "I think I'm good." I didn't really want him to stop, but I knew I was getting myself too excited.

"What about the front?" he asked.

"I did that already." I was breathing heavy, and there was no way he hadn't noticed.

I felt him hooking my top back, and then he leaned in closer to me. "Come back to the house with me."

I nodded my head and reached down for my cover-up. "Bitsy," I called out, "we need to go home for a while."

"Will you be back?" she asked.

I started to say yes, but Morelli interrupted. "We'll try," he told her.

Thankfully Morelli hadn't walked, so we were at the house in no time. We stepped inside, and Morelli's mouth was immediately on me. Kissing my neck, all along my shoulder, pressing me into him so I could feel how much he wanted me.

I took his hand and started for the stairs, but he stopped us. He hugged me to him, and when he spoke I could feel his warm breath in my ear. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment and wondering why he was stalling. "Stephanie," he whispered. "I have to tell you something first."

I stared into his eyes, wondering what he was about to say. What if he said the "_L_" word? Would I be able to say it back? He was having a hard time finding his voice, and I stood there, watching him. _Yes_, I decided_. I could definitely say it back_.

"Stephanie," he repeated. "They made the bust. It's all over."

I stared at him, letting his words sink in. It wasn't at all what I thought he was going to say, and I felt my eyes starting to sting. "_What_?" I asked him. "Already? They did it without you?"

He nodded his head. "It happened in Trenton. We're finished here." He swallowed hard and stared at me, as if he were trying to read my thoughts.

"Oh," was all I could think to say. "Well, I mean, that's good. They got them. You worked hard on this. I know you're happy ..." My voice trailed off, and I stood there, no longer able to speak.

Morelli hesitated a moment, as if debating, and then he pulled me to him. "If we drive faster going back," he whispered, "we have some extra time here."

I immediately nodded my head, and he unhooked my bikini top, letting it fall to the floor.

I took his hand, and we walked slowly up the stairs to the bedroom. I was eager to get him naked in bed with me, but at the same time, I knew this was to be our last moments together, playing our parts, and I hated that it had to end. But it wasn't our house, and it wasn't our bed. It wasn't my life, and he wasn't my husband.

When we got to the top of the stairs, Morelli picked me up and carried me into the bedroom. His kisses were gentle, and our passion was contained. I wondered if he was feeling the same thing that I was, because our lovemaking was much different from how it had been the night before. Our movements were slow and steady, as if we were prolonging the inevitable, and we took our time with each other, enjoying it as if it were to be our last.


	9. Chapter 9

Morelli showered first, and I debated whether or not I should pack or just leave everything there. I decided that that was what I was probably supposed to do, so I showered quickly and dressed in the same clothes I'd worn on that very first day. I took the purse they had given me and the items I'd bought when I'd gone shopping with Bitsy and loaded it all up into the car.

I walked back inside for one last look, and my eyes rested on the wedding photo on the table. I quickly grabbed the picture frame and hurried out to the car. The picture was going to be tossed anyway, so I didn't see a problem with me taking it.

I followed behind Morelli, but this time we drove straight through. We didn't need to stop for gas, and I didn't have to go to the bathroom. And for once, the thought of eating never entered my mind.

As we drove down the highway, back towards Trenton, I thought about everything we'd been through. I wondered what Bitsy and Brett would think when they realized we were gone. If Chief Kelley would grant permission, I wanted to drive up there on my next day off and explain what I could to them. Though they weren't the sort of people I would normally choose to surround myself with, Bitsy had been a great friend to Sarah, and I felt like I owed her some sort of explanation, apology, something. I couldn't just disappear without saying goodbye.

I tried not to, but my thoughts kept going back to Morelli, and how, in just a short amount of time, I'd fallen head over heels in love with him. I stared down at the rings on my finger, and I hated myself because I didn't want to take them off. I decided to keep them on for a while longer and play stupid if someone noticed. I wanted to deal with that later while I was at home all alone.

I tried listening to music, but it didn't help. I silently cursed myself for fucking up the way that I had. I was supposed to be a professional on an assignment, and somehow I'd lost sight of the job. I wasn't really married to Morelli, but I'd allowed the lines between what was real and what wasn't to cross. I wasn't supposed to sleep with him, and I certainly wasn't supposed to fall in love with him.

I wondered what he was feeling, and I tried to draw a conclusion based on how he'd interacted with me just a few hours before. He'd been tender and loving, but at the same time there was a finality to it all. As if he were telling me that what we had couldn't continue once we got back to the real world. He'd told me that was going to happen the night of Bitsy and Brett's anniversary party, so it wasn't as if I should have been surprised. He'd never once lied about his intentions. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks as I realized that Morelli had been telling me goodbye.

We pulled up at the station, and Morelli got out first. I hesitated a moment, pretending that I had dropped something. I rolled down the window and waved him in. "I'll be right behind you," I said. He nodded and walked inside. I grabbed the picture, slipped it underneath my shirt, and walked into the station, trying my best to appear calm and collected.

Morelli was nowhere in sight, but Gazarra was there. "Long time no see, Plum," he said. I sat down at my desk and inconspicuously removed the picture from beneath my shirt, sticking it in the bottom drawer beneath some files.

"How are things around here?" I asked. Just then I saw Chief Kelley motion for me, and I stood up, thankful I'd been able to hide the photo. "Guess I'll talk to you later."

I spent the rest of the afternoon meeting with Dr. Bentram and being debriefed on the assignment. There were certain aspects we weren't allowed to discuss, and I spent the next few hours typing up a full report. Thankfully I took detailed notes while I was there, so I was able to turn those in and save myself some time.

I never did see Morelli again, and I wondered if he'd already gone home. He was used to this sort of thing, so they probably felt he didn't need all the attention they were giving me.

* * *

Gazarra gave me a ride home, and I debated whether or not to have him drop by my parents' house so I could get Rex. A part of me desperately wanted to see him, but at the same time I just didn't feel up to being around my parents. All I wanted to do was go home and cry. I needed to get everything out of my system so I could start reclaiming my real life again.

I unlocked my apartment door and stepped inside. "I'm home," I said, but of course, no one was there to answer me. I walked over to the answering machine and began listening to my messages. As soon as I was finished, I sat down on the couch and stared at the blank television screen. I looked down at my hand and remembered the wedding rings. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and I tried as hard as I could to push Morelli out of my mind. He'd obviously been able to keep the boundaries separate. I was just going to have to try my best to do the same.

But sitting there on my couch all I could think about was how lonely I was. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I missed our fake house in Albany. I missed our annoyingly perfect neighbors. I missed having someone to talk to, someone to fight with over the remote. But most of all I missed Morelli. _Damn him_, I thought. Why had I stopped hating him? Why did he have to be so fucking perfect? I wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled myself up off of the couch.

I took a long hot shower, letting the water wash away my tears, and as soon as I was finished, I started brushing my teeth. My thoughts kept getting away from me, though, and the last time that I spit into the sink, I noticed blood. I'd practically scrubbed my top gum raw I'd been so out of it. "You can't live like this, Stephanie," I said out loud, and I debated whether or not I needed to call Dr. Bentram and confess what had really happened to her. I was starting to think I needed professional help.

I decided against that, though, and made up my mind to go to bed instead. I'd just made myself comfortable when I heard a knock at my door. I wasn't in the mood to be welcomed home, so I debated whether or not I should ignore it. Whoever it was knocked again, a bit louder the second time, so I dragged myself out of bed and walked to the door.

I stared out the peephole, and my heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath and removed the chain, opening the door slowly.

"So I know this girl," Morelli said. "She's got a bit of a problem, but she's working on it."

I smiled at the memory those words evoked and then stared down at the floor, overwhelmed by emotion.

"Of course I've got a problem, too," he said. "My house feels lonely and empty. A lot like my life right now." He smiled at me, and I tried my best to fight back the tears.

"So the way I see it," he continued, " I've got two choices. I can keep on living in denial and pretend I haven't fallen in love with this girl. _Or_ I can show up on her doorstep and risk everything, hoping that she'll have me."

I could feel my throat tightening, and I thought for a brief moment that I might pass out. I struggled to breathe, keeping my head down, watching as my tears made a small puddle on the tile in my doorway.

Morelli was quiet for a moment, and then he moved closer to me. "So aren't you curious what _her_ problem is?" he whispered.

I nodded my head, and he lifted my chin. "She can't seem to decide where it is she wants to go on her honeymoon. She's always dreamt of Hawaii, but the man she's marrying wants to go to Italy. What do you think she should do?"

I swallowed down the lump that was in my throat, and when I was finally able to speak, it was barely above a whisper. "I think she should go to Italy. She'd be a fool ..."

Morelli pulled me to him and kissed me passionately. "Marry me, Stephanie." He kissed me again and whispered in my ear. "I know this might sound crazy and impulsive, but I don't want to live my life without you. _I love you_."

As soon as I heard him say that I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer for a kiss. I hugged him tight and smiled against him. "You're in luck," I teased. "Crazy and impulsive just happen to be the two qualities I look for in a man." I heard him laugh, and I rested my head against his chest, enjoying the feel of the vibrations his laughter was causing. Just being able to touch him again made everything seem okay.

I leaned back and stared deeply into his eyes. "I love you, too, Joe." Then I nodded my head. "And yes, I'll marry you."

He kissed me again, an even hotter kiss than the one we'd just shared, and as soon as we pulled apart from one another, I took the opportunity to speak. "On one condition," I said.

I could see the expression change on his face, but he didn't hesitate when he spoke. "_Anything_. You name it."

I stared down at my hand and gently removed the rings I was wearing. "You put these same rings back on my finger." I slipped them inside the palm of his hand and smiled, noticing he was still wearing his. "I want a chance to put that gold band on you."

"So you're going to be okay with touching me?"

"_Oh yeah_," I teased, pulling him inside my apartment and shutting the door. "Except I want to do more than just touch you."

He raised an eyebrow and took my hand. "Why don't you give me a tour of your apartment?" he asked. "And start with the bedroom first. I'd like a preview of what it is you want to do to me."

* * *

We were married six months later, and we honeymooned in Italy. Albany turned out to be my first and last undercover assignment, but that was okay. I was no longer interested in advancing within the department. Instead my thoughts were on expanding. I'd given birth to our first child almost two years to the day we'd left for New York, and now, three years later, I just found out that I'm expecting again.

I've been working for a private investigations firm for the past two years, but I've decided to put my career on hold for a while and enjoy being a wife and mother. Childhood is fleeting, and I try to live my life with a "no regrets" attitude. I'll go back to work one day, but for now, this is where I feel I need to be.

We have a nice house, a backyard big enough for a dog to enjoy, and between both of our mothers, enough frozen casseroles to last us a lifetime. I know what it is in my life that's really important to me, and I spend every single day appreciating it._ Even_ the days that Bitsy calls and feels compelled to tell me what all of her favorite soap opera characters have been up to.


End file.
